


Electric Veins

by aliaoftwoworlds



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Resurrection, Tony Feels, Tony with alien powers, there will be a lot of tony and rhodey fluff, very dark beginning few chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 115,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaoftwoworlds/pseuds/aliaoftwoworlds
Summary: The vibranium shield was Steve’s pride and joy. It was a symbol of protection, of justice, and it could smash its way through Nazis and aliens alike.As it turns out, it could also smash through several layers of gold-titanium, and the human sternum, ribcage, lungs, and heart beneath it.Steve kills Tony in Siberia, and the world is woefully unprepared when Thanos arrives not long after. As a last insult to the defeated Avengers, Thanos resurrects their betrayed and murdered former comrade, but his creation turns on him and defeats him. What’s left of the world celebrates, but damage has been done that can never be undone and Tony is… changed. Rhodey is determined to prove that it doesn’t matter: what makes Tony Tony is still there, and they’ll work through anything else.





	1. Murderer

**Author's Note:**

> So this is… odd, I’m not going to lie. I don’t even know when the idea formed, but it just kept nagging at me until I had to turn it into a story. I mostly wanted a reason for Tony and Rhodey to be basically extremely close in the aftermath of some kind of disaster or trauma. 
> 
> The first couple chapters are going to be from the (Ex) Avengers’ point of view, but after the Thanos stuff is done—which shouldn’t take more than a few chapters—they’ll be out of the way completely and almost never show up again. The focus is going to completely shift to Tony and Rhodey.
> 
> I’m going to be killing a lot of characters here. I mean a lot. I wanted it to be somewhat realistic in terms of the damage Thanos would do to a completely unprepared Earth, and I also needed most of them out of the way for plot reasons. I want to apologize in advance for the good characters I’m going to kill (not for any of the ExVengers. They can all rot in hell, particularly in this story).
> 
> As always, feel free to point out grammar/spelling/formatting errors.

The vibranium shield was Steve’s pride and joy. It was a symbol of protection, of justice, and it could smash its way through Nazis and aliens alike.

As it turns out, it could also smash through several layers of gold-titanium, and the human sternum, ribcage, lungs, and heart beneath it.

Steve and his team have been in Wakanda three days when T’Challa storms in, followed by six members of the Dora Milaje, who station themselves around the room. Steve has the sudden, uncomfortable impression of the Dora as prison guards, and his trepidation only grows in the face of T’Challa’s stony expression.

“T’Challa, what’s—” is all he gets out before one of the Dora hisses, a hand at the blade on her side. 

“You will address the King as ‘Your Highness,’” she says, but T’Challa waves a hand at her, more focused on Steve.

“ _Captain_ , would you care to explain?” He asks, and though his voice is even, Steve can sense the tension in him, and doesn’t like the inflection placed on his title. Before he can ask, T’Challa continues. “A… small disagreement, you said? He was 'no longer fighting, but not badly injured.' Those were your exact words, were they not?” And Steve’s heart sinks. He hasn’t told the others everything that happened in Siberia, only that Tony attacked Bucky and Steve and Bucky had to stop him—which was true, but if T’Challa insisted on pushing it, and the others found out about the Winter Soldier killing the Starks… They were already wary enough of Bucky, they didn’t need this additional reason to distrust him.

Steve tries to level a sincere and insistent look at T’Challa. “Yes, that’s true. Why do you ask?” 

In answer, one of the Dora flips on the television behind the Avengers and turns it to an American news channel, which is showing—

“ _No_ ,” he breathes when he realizes what they’re saying. Devastation is dropping his stomach, raising bile in his throat. Tony Stark, confirmed dead. He turns to T’Challa, throat working. “What happened?”

“I came to ask _you_ that question, Mr. Rogers. They found his body in Siberia, in an abandoned HYDRA bunker, next to a metal arm and Captain America’s shield. His wounds and the damage to his suit matched the size and shape of the shield.”

Steve can barely comprehend T’Challa’s words. His vision seems to have tunneled to the King’s stony face, and he vaguely registers noises of outrage and disbelief from the others, which sound muffled, as though they are coming to him underwater. “No,” he says again, his voice weak. “I didn’t—”

“Are you saying someone _else_ took your shield and used it to murder Tony Stark? Another person used that shield to destroy his suit, to crush his ribcage and shatter his sternum, puncture both of his lungs, shove pieces of the broken suit into his chest?”

Steve can’t say anything, can’t even think. He can’t have killed Tony. He’d just wanted to stop the fighting. Tony was going to kill Bucky—he couldn’t let Bucky die. 

Apparently he’d sacrificed one friend for another.

He feels his legs go weak and drops hard to his knees, looking up at T’Challa, who looks unmoved by this show of grief. “I took Mr. Barnes in as a form of repayment for my having attacked an innocent man,” he says. “I extended that courtesy to you and your followers on the understanding that you would be under control here, where you could be watched. Other countries were already crying for your punishment, for what you had done before Siberia. Now, Captain, the world wants your head. And I am not going to deny them that.”

“What?” Steve croaks, chest feeling tight. “You said you’d help Bucky!”

“ _Fuck_ Bucky!” Someone cries, and it takes Steve a moment to remember that there are other people in the room. The voice was Scott, who looks pale and sick as he points a shaking finger at Steve. “You haven’t done shit for anyone but Bucky since I met you, and now this? You _killed_ Tony Stark, for him? For your terrorist assassin buddy, and now that half the world wants to see our throats slit for everything, you still only care about him? Well fuck that, and _fuck you_ , Steve!” He grips his hair with both hands and pulls, looking horrified.

“I would say ‘half the world’ is an understatement, Mr. Lang.” T’Challa looks just as unmoved by Scott’s emotional outburst as Steve’s. He turns his attention back to Steve. “I promised to protect Mr. Barnes, and I will not break that promise. He will remain in Wakanda in monitored cryogenic sleep. You, however, are no longer welcome here. Any of you,” he adds, looking around the room. “You have two hours to leave this palace and three days to vacate this country. If you are not gone by then, or if you step foot inside Wakanda again after that, you will be captured and turned over to the German government, which was the first to issue an arrest warrant for all of you. If you attempt to take any Wakandan property with you or if you threaten, endanger, or attack any citizen of this country, I will authorize the use of deadly force against you. I suggest you begin your departure, unless you intend to turn yourselves in, in which case I will gladly assist you.” He raises an eyebrow, waits a few seconds, then turns on his heel and strides out of the room, followed by the Dora, who give the Avengers threatening looks as they leave.

It’s silent in the room, and Steve finally climbs back to his feet and looks around to see the others all staring at him in various states of horror and disbelief—all except Wanda, who is glaring at the closed doors, red magic swirling around her hands.

Sam is the first one who speaks. His voice sounds rough, like he’s trying not to cry, or maybe to be sick. “Steve, man… what did you do? You told us Tony was fine. You told us T’Challa was on our side, that he took us in because he could see that we were right. Now he’s throwing us out because you _killed Tony Stark?_ ”

Something penetrates the fog Steve is in. T’Challa is kicking them out. They’re wanted fugitives, and they either have to leave their sanctuary or be handed over to the German government. He jerks into action, his voice hardening even while his mind is still reeling from the thought of Tony dead. Action always did help him keep emotions from becoming overwhelming. 

“Okay.” It comes out steely, commanding. “We need to move if we want any time to plan before we’re out of the country.” Silence meets his statement and he narrows his eyes at the group.

Scott finally speaks up. “Plan what, man? You heard the King, we’re screwed. The entire world is going to be looking for us. How the hell are we supposed to hide from _everyone?_ ”

“We’ll figure something out. For now, we need to get moving, or we won’t even get the chance to try. We don’t want T’Challa turning us in.” Steve feels a moment of crippling fear over whether T’Challa will really keep his promise and keep Bucky safe, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He knows Bucky is too well guarded to try to break him out of cryo and bring him with them, and the two hours that T’Challa gave them to vacate the palace isn’t enough time to create a plan to get him out. He’ll just have to hope that the King keeps his word.

They pack the few things they own and set off on back roads for the Wakandan border, traversing the entire distance on foot after only one disastrous attempt to convince a local to let them hitch a ride. The Wakandans don’t seem too happy with their King’s decision to harbor fugitives. 

Steve spends the time thinking about Bucky, trying not to think about Tony, and desperately trying to come up with a plan for the future. It’s looking pretty grim; none of them have reliable contacts in this part of the world, at least not any that would overlook their crimes to help them. Even if they did, they have almost no way of contacting anyone. Clint wisely suggested that they dump any electronics that could be used to trace them before they crossed the Wakandan border. Steve suspects it was partly out of spite, in the hopes that the authorities would trace their technology back to Wakanda and find out the King was harboring them, but it’s still a good idea.

Just over four days after crossing the border, they have the shaky outline of a plan for the foreseeable future. Despite Sam and Scott’s frosty attitudes toward him, Steve feels the first glimmer of hope in days, hope that they might be able to work something out, even get a chance to clear their names.

Thanos arrives that afternoon.


	2. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should mention, as always in my stories: I’ve only watched marvel movies, not read any of the comics (not even the tie-ins for the MCU). I know absolutely nothing about Thanos in the comics, his motivations or powers or what kinds of aliens his armies are made of, etc. Since he won’t be in this story for long I guess it doesn’t matter much, but I still feel I should warn people that characters from the comics might be totally off in my stories.
> 
> This chapter is very dark. There’s descriptions of brutal deaths. There’s also some brief suicidal thoughts from a character. If that’s not your thing, feel free to skip to the end of the chapter. I’ll put a summary of the plot and a list of main characters who died in the end notes. I’m going to be going over pretty much all of Thanos’s invasion very quickly, so sorry to anyone who wanted it drawn out, but the point of this story is to get to the Tony stuff :)

Many of them go fast. At first it was horrifying, but eventually, Steve found himself grateful for the fast ones. At least then it was painless.

There’s still quite a few people alive, even a month into Thanos’s invasion. He’s still occupied with crushing any resistance, breaking the spirit of the masses. People are being hoarded into hastily set up camps, guarded by Thanos’s armies. Civilians who resist are usually killed instantly. 

They tried to fight back, of course. Whole armies fell before Thanos in days. He blasted his way through them with no more effort than it took to swat insects. The world was very quickly willing to look past what the Ex-Avengers had done and beg them for help. After all, they’d repelled a sudden alien invasion once before.

Their confidence in the Avengers was short-lived. Steve still felt a pang whenever he thought of Tony’s insistence that the Chitauri was just the opening act, nothing compared to what was coming. He’d been right all along. But maybe… maybe it was kinder that he hadn’t lived to see his nightmares come true. He couldn’t have stopped Thanos.

T’Challa called them back the day Thanos arrived. He made it clear that he would not forget what Steve had done, but that they needed to put it aside for a time and work together in order to repel the invasion and protect the Earth. 

How naïve they’d been.

The first portal opened over New York on day one, and that was where the flagships landed. The Vision, alone as an Avenger, managed to take two ships down before he was overcome. Thanos ripped the Infinity Stone out of his head, added it to his gauntlet, and disintegrated what was left of Vision’s body.

As the National Guard tried and failed to fight over the next two days, other superhumans, some that no one had even known existed, showed up to try to defend their world. Even known villains came out of hiding to combat the invasion. Most of them were killed by groups of alien soldiers. The few that were powerful enough to make it to Thanos were killed by the Titan himself.

Over the next three days, thousands of ships carrying tens of millions of aliens surrounded the planet. New portals opened over major cities and brought in even more. Entire countries’ armies were overwhelmed, their leaders executed or enslaved as a show of power. The ships arrived in Wakanda on day four, and even with its incredible technology and advanced defenses, the country fell quickly. The palace was surrounded, and a desperate, draining, and ultimately hopeless battle commenced.

In just over an hour, they were all subdued. They hadn’t had time to wake Bucky up completely, and while he lay unconscious and helpless in the medical bay, the aliens slit his throat, then shot him several times for good measure. Steve took dozens down trying to defend him, but was ultimately overcome, and his distraction with Bucky allowed the others to be overwhelmed even faster. Any palace guards or members of the Dora who hadn’t died in the battle were taken away in chains to the camps; Steve heard, later, that they were deemed too much trouble after multiple escape attempts and physical pushbacks, and were all executed. T’Challa, as the Black Panther, decimated a great number of the aliens, but their retaliation was even more ferocious, and when he was eventually overtaken, they tore him apart. 

The Avengers must have been recognized, because Thanos’s soldiers went to great lengths to capture as many of them as possible. Eventually Steve, Clint, Scott, and Wanda—an alien device on her head suppressing her powers—were led away in chains. Sam lay dead on the floor, and aliens stepped on his body as they ransacked the palace.

They were brought back to New York, where Thanos seemed to have made his base of operations—or maybe “throne” would be more accurate. They met Natasha there, who’d also been captured and dragged back to the city. It was wrong on a visceral level, seeing the Black Widow subdued, in chains. Thanos kept them alive, Steve soon realized, for no other reason than to taunt them, to wave their defeat in their faces and continue to demoralize anyone who thought they could resist.

The five remaining Avengers were strung up in a macabre sort of village square at the center of several prisoners’ camps, across from where Thanos sat and oversaw operations. Thanos’s soldiers delighted in hurting the fallen heroes, sometimes just a passing blow or cut, sometimes brutal torture that lasted hours and had the others cringing away from the sound of the screams. A week in, they backed off a bit, after Scott’s injuries killed him. A corpse was no fun. They left his body hanging with the living Avengers for four more days.

On the second day after Scott’s death, the former Avengers Tower caused a scene when the top fifteen floors, which were crawling with aliens, exploded without warning. From their position, the Avengers could just see the smoke rising, hearing the angry shouts around them. Even Thanos rose from his throne to face the commotion, and—

Steve’s heart leapt at the sight of the incoming armor. Gleaming red and gold, carrying the bodies of several aliens, which it used to dive bomb some of those around Thanos before coming in for a dramatic landing at his feet, it was unmistakably Iron Man. For a few moments Steve felt dizzy and disoriented. How could he be here? How could Tony, the man he’d killed, be back to save him?

If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have realized it sooner, but he wasn’t in his right mind. He didn’t realize until the end of the short, failed battle, until Thanos ripped the helmet off the suit and red hair came tumbling out, until Pepper’s dying scream echoed through the streets as Thanos crushed the suit with her inside it, that of course it wasn’t Tony coming back for him. Tony was dead. Crushed in his suit just like Pepper. Oh God, Pepper, what a strong, wonderful woman, and she was dead, dead after making her last stand in Tony’s suit, sticking with him to the end. Despite their situation, despite all the death and destruction so far, it was at that moment that Steve began to feel truly hopeless.

Days later, all of them were physically and emotionally drained. Something the aliens were doing to them must have been giving them basic hydration and nutrition, otherwise Natasha and Clint couldn’t have lasted this long. But they were alive, hanging there bleeding and bruised and defeated. Every day, hundreds of people were marched past them on the way to having their fates decided. The old, very young, and unfit were slaughtered. The “passable” humans were taken onto ships to be enslaved elsewhere in the galaxy. As they walked past, some looked up to the fallen heroes, imploring or condemning. At first, Steve had tried to hold their gazes, to give them some comfort or hope. After a while, he looked away.

About a week after Pepper’s death, Wanda broke free of whatever device was suppressing her powers. She snapped her chains, let out an unearthly scream, and engulfed her immediate surroundings in a cloud of red magic. Dozens of alien guards were dead in seconds, and then she turned her attention to Thanos. Thanos seemed almost amused.

In the end, her rampage killed more nearby humans than aliens. Thanos burst apart her body like an overfilled balloon, and let the blood—and worse—spray down onto the three remaining Avengers. Her magic hadn’t even touched him.

Nothing but endless death has happened since then. It’s now been a month since Thanos arrived, and the Earth is defeated. Everyone knows it. Steve hangs there in his bonds, day after day, watching thousands go to their deaths or worse. He’s become too numb to even think about what’s being done to them. He barely even registers the cuts and burns that the aliens keep inflicting on him, though they love using his rapidly-healing body as a canvas for their cruelty. Despite how hard he fought in the first week or so, despite his muffled curses promising retribution, he’s now still in his bonds. He hasn’t even thought of escape in days, except maybe escape from this through death.

He’s too numb now to look away when the people look up at him. He just gazes blankly at them. They no longer look imploring. Their eyes hold nothing but hopelessness, and anger for the so-called “heroes” who failed to save them.

He knows Thanos is getting bored watching them. The amusement was in breaking them. Now that they’re broken, he’d might as well get rid of them. Sometimes, Steve welcomes it. The moment when he can finally let go and leave all of this, this nightmare of a world where he’s nothing but a failure who hangs there watching the people he couldn’t protect go to their deaths. His anger at Thanos has dulled from burning, righteous fury to little more than hatred of how long he is drawing this out. There are several dozen of these main camps around the world, and each is taking away or slaughtering around ten thousand a day. It’ll take years at this rate to even get through a fraction of the world’s population. Perhaps Thanos has something else planned after a while of this, or maybe this is just a distraction, and Thanos is after something else. Steve’s mind feels too fuzzy and numb to really ponder it. 

It’s on a day they’re torturing Natasha that everything goes further south than Steve had thought possible. They’d been strong through it all at first, but eventually, they’d all screamed. Hearing it from Natasha was the most jarring of any of them. But after a while, she fell silent. Steve finds himself almost wishing to hear her scream again. 

Natasha is making a low, practically inhuman sound, and Steve can see movement from Clint’s position, more movement than there’s been in weeks. He turns his head for the first time in days to look fully at his teammates. They look awful, beyond description, but Clint is actually raising his head, bunching his muscles in defiance, glaring at Thanos. 

“What—what do you want?” He manages to get out. His voice is hoarse from screaming, and lack of use. “You’re… never going to hear us beg. We won’t serve you. You can… torture us, kill us, but you can’t… really break us.” He’s gasping between words with the effort of spitting it all out at the Titan, but he manages.

Steve is suddenly ashamed of himself. He’d been thinking that they were broken, defeated, and that they’d spend the rest of their lives blankly watching the march of death in front of them. He’d been giving Thanos what he wants. No matter how hopeless the situation, Steve should be doing what he can. He never should have turned his head from the people looking up at him. If all he could do was offer them solidarity in their final moments, so be it. It meant they were still human, still had compassion, and that was something Thanos could never take away from them.

Steve straightens as best he can in his bonds. Thanos is actually looking at Clint for once, examining him with something like amusement. Steve refuses to be cowed. He will show Thanos that humanity will keep its emotional connections to the bitter end.

Thanos’s gaze shifts between Clint and Steve. Eventually, he actually rises from his throne, gesturing for the aliens flanking Natasha to leave the Avengers’ raised platform. Steve won’t give in to the fear of the approaching Titan.

“Ah,” Thanos says, “defiance. You _humans_ , even in the face of your utter demise, cling to your emotions, to your _compassion_ and _love_. You think _love_ for one another makes you stronger.”

He stomps up onto the platform. His enormous form looms over them for a moment, before he crouches down to face Clint. “You think love for others makes you strong, _Avenger?_ ” The title is as mocking as Thanos’s sneer. 

Clint twitches in his bonds, and Steve is sure he would spit in Thanos’s face if he had the moisture in his mouth. “It makes us stronger than you,” he says boldly. “ _Better_ than you.”

Thanos laughs, and the sound is ugly and twisted. It makes Steve’s skin crawl, and foreboding begins to constrict his chest. Thanos turns and walks back towards his throne. “Love for another, Avenger, is nothing more than a weakness to be exploited.”

He gestures to one of the guards, who turns and walks away to one of the prisoner camps. It’s silent and relatively calm again for quite a while, except for the dread settling in Steve’s stomach. Thanos won’t let this go without a demonstration, and Steve isn’t keen to watch some poor soul tortured in front of them as punishment for their defiance.

Eventually, the guard comes back, along with several others. They’re dragging multiple restrained people, and Steve’s heart sinks. He begins to wish they had remained numb and silent, perhaps spared these poor innocent people whatever fate now awaits them. It’s a woman, holding a baby, and two children as well. Not the children, not this family, please—

—oh, God. As they’re dragged fully into the clearing between Thanos’s throne and the Avengers’ platform, Steve recognizes them at the same time Clint starts screaming. This… this is so much worse than Steve had thought possible.

Clint is alternating between screaming his wife’s name and each of his children’s. He’s thrashing as much as he can in his bonds, screaming more desperately than he had through any of the brutal torture before now. After all, this is the worst kind of torment.

The aliens cut the family’s bonds, but they don’t bother trying to fight or run. Laura clutches her children close and gazes up, tears running down her face. Steve is suddenly overwhelmed by the realization of what’s going to happen, and that he can do nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop it. He tries to meet her eyes, but she is looking straight at her husband and nothing else. Clint has devolved into unintelligible screaming and sobs, and whatever he’d thought an hour ago about not being broken, Steve was wrong. He’s broken, and Thanos was right. Love for others is bringing them nothing but more pain before they die.

As the guards approach with their tools in hand, Steve closes his eyes.

He feels weak and shameful for not looking, but what good would it do? Perhaps he’s giving the Bartons what little he can, not observing their torment. Or maybe he’s just a coward who doesn’t want to see a family murdered and his friend destroyed. But he can’t stop himself from hearing it. No matter how loud Clint screams before his voice breaks, he can’t drown out the sounds of what’s happening to his family. It’s less than a minute before he breaks his promise of an hour ago and begs. But it doesn’t make any difference, except maybe increasing Thanos’s amusement.

Belatedly, Steve realizes that those in the nearby camps must be able to hear, perhaps see, this spectacle. It makes him sick, but he can’t think of what to do about it. There’s no way he can appear strong through this, and even if he could, it wouldn’t help anyone.

After what feels like years, all of the sounds have nearly stopped except for Clint, who’s emitting a continuous dry, hoarse wail. Steve finally opens his eyes again, only to see the guards clearing away the… remains. He actually gags at the sight, dry heaves, which is incredibly painful against his overly stretched chest and arms. But it’s nothing compared to the pain of what just happened. The only thing he hopes for now is a quick death for all of them, particularly Clint. The sooner he dies, the less time he’ll have to spend in this world, having seen what just happened to his family. Maybe he’ll even be reunited with them. Steve hasn’t had a lot of time to really contemplate his faith in the last few years, but he’d always believed. Now… he’s starting to wonder if they’re actually already dead, and this is Hell. Maybe this is his punishment for killing Tony.

Once the cleanup is done, leaving nothing behind but a red stain, Thanos laughs again. In other circumstances, the sound would have goaded Steve into action, or at least speech. Instead he just sags in his bindings and lets warm tears roll down his face. 

“You humans think your feelings give you strength, but they are nothing but weaknesses. You use them to destroy yourselves and each other.” Thanos leans forward in his seat, contemplating Steve. “But I think you know this already. After all, you reek of nothing but the _guilt_ you burden yourself with. It would be fitting, I think, to finally end your minuscule existence using the guilt you’re already carrying. The _anger_ with which you betray a friend. You humans put such weight on meaningless friendships and petty feuds. It brings so many _emotions_ to the surface.”

Steve doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but at this point, he’ll welcome death. Nothing can be worse than what just happened, and he can make it through whatever Thanos is planning so long as at the end of it, he gets to let go.

“Why don’t we let the one you betrayed be the one to finally end the Avengers.” As he raises his arm, Infinity Stones glowing in the gauntlet, Steve is suddenly hit with the meaning of his words.

He was wrong; it could get worse. Maybe this was Hell after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I’m pissed at the ExVengers after Civil War, I don’t actually want something this awful to happen to them. This was hard to write.
> 
> For those who didn’t want to read the chapter, it went through the month since Thanos invaded, leading up to present. Steve, Natasha, and Clint are essentially tied up and on display as trophies of Thanos’s victory, and Thanos has just announced that he’s going to have “the one they betrayed” be the one to kill them. 
> 
> Also, part of the reason he’s taking so long to actually massacre Earth’s population is that he (or his minions on his behalf, mostly) is still searching for the Time Stone. There’ll be a bit more on that later.
> 
> Main characters who died: Vision, Bucky, T’Challa, Sam, Scott, Pepper (sorry), Wanda. I also killed Clint’s family, I’m so sorry.


	3. Resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thank you so much for the interest in this story! Sorry for the long wait between chapters. Had an exam last week, spent my post-exam writing spree on a few chapters of Facing Reality, then got busy again, and we just had a death in the family. But I finally sat down and planned out this entire story, which was a challenge since I just wrote the first two chapters on impulse, and had never really thought out the whole thing before or planned to make it into an actual posted fic. But now, as long as I have time to write, I should be posting more regularly again!
> 
> A couple things to note about the story in general: I know the Soul Stone hasn’t actually shown up in the MCU (I don’t think?), but for completeness’ sake, I’m going to say Thanos found it as well, so he now has all but the Time Stone. I still haven’t actually seen Ragnarok but I know Bruce left sometime after AoU/CW, so for this story I’m saying he was already off-planet during Civil War. He won’t be appearing in this story so you can headcanon that he’s on another planet hiding out from Thanos’s rampage/being the Hulk, or that Thanos already came by and killed him, or whatever you’d like. Since they aren’t coming to help and Thanos has all of the Infinity Stones except Time (and I’ve moved up his invasion of Earth in the timeline), I’m going to say that he’s already attacked/destroyed Asgard in this. Since they’re also not in this, I suppose Thanos killed the Guardians as well (Thanos is my excuse for most missing characters ahaha). Also, in this fic I’m not integrating other Marvel franchises, so the X-Men don’t exist here.
> 
> This chapter is short, sorry, but I wanted to split this section into two parts. Since that makes each one somewhat short, I should be posting the next one very soon. There will be two more chapters from Steve’s point of view, and then it’ll switch to Rhodey’s for the remainder of the story.

Some of the guards disappear. They must have been gone for a while, but it hardly feels like any time at all to Steve. He can’t even think, just hangs there, numb from what’s happened and dreading what’s coming. The guards return with a body bag held between them, and lay it on the ground at Thanos’s feet. Steve is so tired, so beaten down and horrified, that he can’t understand at first where they got it. Tony died over a month ago. But then he realizes it had only been a few days between his death and the beginning of the invasion. Tony—Tony’s body—must have been at a hospital or a coroner the entire time. In cold storage maybe, or… if the power has been out for long, Steve doesn’t want to think about the state of the body.

Thanos’s twisted parody of a smile is horrifying, but not as horrifying as the prospect of what’s about to happen. In a moment of desperate self-pity, Steve wants to scream at Thanos, to demand to know what the point of this is. He’s taken the Earth, there’s no way anyone can fight back against him. He’s surely planning to kill or enslave them all. Demoralizing them further, making their deaths into a dramatic production, is pointless. 

He thinks about the Infinity Stones in Thanos’s gauntlet and wonders if this is just an elaborate punishment for denying him the Tessaract and the Mind Stone all those years ago. If so, Thanos plots extensive revenge for a being who claims to be above the petty emotions of humans.

He focuses back on the scene in front of him when the guards back away, leaving the space between the Avengers and Thanos clear except for the body bag. Thanos doesn’t do much, just reaches an arm out toward the bag. The stones within the gauntlet glow too brightly to watch, and the bag begins to disintegrate.

Steve wasn’t able to watch what happened to Clint’s family, but he can’t look away from this.

Tony’s body is remarkably unchanged from his memory, from the last time he’d seen him, except for the scars crossing his caved-in chest. Autopsy evidence, on top of what Steve had done to him, and Steve can’t even process that right now. Tony’s paler than any living person, and naked. It’s to be expected considering where they retrieved his body from, but for some reason Steve’s mind is stuck on that point. It just seems like such an invasion. Or maybe he’s just focusing in on anything but the recognition of what’s in front of him, the evidence of what he’s done.

Tony couldn’t have stopped this invasion, and in all likelihood he would have died at Thanos’s hands not long after he had actually died at Steve’s. But that was all the difference there. If things hadn’t gone the way they had in Siberia, Tony might have been right there along with him. Maybe it was selfish to wish Tony had been put through all of this with them, but at least then he wouldn’t have died at the hands of a friend. At least Steve’s last act as a free man wouldn’t have been the murder of an ally, a friend, a grieving son. A good man.

Because whatever their disagreements, whatever had happened between them, Tony was a good man. Steve will need to hang onto that, to the memories he had, in the face of whatever monstrosity Thanos is about to create in front of him.

The air around Tony’s body seems to… ripple for a moment. The bright lights of the Infinity Stones swirl around his body as though they’re alive, surrounding it and drawing it up into the air slowly. The body begins to glow from within, and Thanos laughs. Steve’s eyes water as he watches, the light around Tony almost too bright to stand.

Just as Steve is about to be forced to look away, something changes. The lights around Tony are… entering his body, and changing. The multiple colors are coalescing, converging into one bright, light shade. The body twitches, then the caved-in chest fills out again, the scars seem to just fade from existence. 

Movement and a deep growl catch Steve’s attention. Thanos is no longer smiling or laughing. He looks disturbed, which can’t bode well for any of them, and he almost seems to be pulling back against the gauntlet and the flow of light from the stones to Tony’s body. Steve wonders for a brief moment if something is going wrong, and what that means for all of them. What will happen to Thanos, to Tony, to everyone, if Thanos really can’t control whatever he’s doing with the Infinity Stones. 

He’s drawn back out of those thoughts by a convulsion from Tony’s body, and when he looks back at it he’s transfixed. The lights around Tony have completely disappeared. The entirety of his unearthly glow is now coming from _within_ him. The light is a bright blue, the same glow that used to emanate from the arc reactor in Tony’s suits, or in his chest, back when they’d met. He’d always associated that color, that glow, with Tony. With his creative spirit and his miraculous inventions. Of course, the last time he’d seen it, he’d driven his shield into it, deliberately tried to destroy it. He hadn’t thought at the time about the parallels and the implications, that the reactor powering Tony’s suit used to be the one powering his heart. Of course, it turned out that getting it removed still couldn’t protect his heart, not from Steve.

For a moment, the glow fades from Tony’s body where it’s suspended in the air, but then his eyes snap open, and they’re bright, alien. Unsettling. In the next moment, there are thin lines, the same glowing blue, scrawling themselves across Tony’s skin. They start from a point on his chest and within a few seconds they’ve entirely covered his body. It makes him look like a cracked shell of a human with an arc reactor inside him, powering his lifeless body. It might be an apt description, because Thanos created this… thing, and no doubt Thanos controls it. 

Whatever was happening to reanimate Tony must be done, because he floats gently back to the ground, and lands on his feet. He stands upright on two feet like a person, but something about the way he holds himself just isn’t right. His eyes glow so brightly that it’s difficult to tell what he’s looking at—if he can even see, maybe he’s only controlled by Thanos and doesn’t have any senses of his own.

Tony shifts a bit, seeming to test his limbs and his movement. After a moment, he takes a step, and the shivery feeling that Steve gets from looking at him intensifies. He walks like an alien inhabiting a human body for the first time. Not unsteady so much as unaccustomed. Steve wouldn’t revise his earlier thought that ending all of this would be worth whatever Thanos put him through, but this is beyond what he’d imagined. Maybe it's what he deserves, but he can admit that he's terrified of this, of being killed by the glowing alien reincarnation of his greatest failure as a hero and as a friend.

Tony walks almost aimlessly, wandering, like he has no goal except to learn to walk or to explore the world around him. Despite the glow and the strange posture, there really is a lot of Tony there, and it breaks Steve’s heart to see. He’s not even sure if this Tony will recognize him, but he can’t stay silent anymore.

“Tony.” It’s barely louder than a whisper, and Steve’s voice is still hoarse and scratchy, but Tony’s head whips up to face him. He was wrong, earlier, about not knowing what those glowing eyes are looking at. Now that the force of that disconcerting gaze is directed at him, it’s like he can _feel_ it. It’s a presence of its own, something unholy made from the Infinity Stones and Thanos’s wrath that’s been condensed and directed into Tony’s body. This was what Thanos meant, what he wanted, for the Avengers to be killed by the rage of the man they’d betrayed. The reason they’d lost the faith of the world—and now they’d failed to protect them. Poetic vengeance.

Tony’s path is deliberate now. He approaches the raised platform that holds the bound Avengers with slow, careful steps, and as he climbs up onto it gracefully, Thanos speaks to Tony, voice booming across to the platform from his throne. 

“Yes, see these insects who betrayed you, who killed you. They killed you in the name of protecting their tiny world, and then they let that world crumble in front of them. You were angry, so _angry_. Use that anger. Kill them like they killed you.”

Steve wants to say something, anything, to refute Thanos, but his voice seems to be stuck in his throat. Tony is just feet from him now, looking up at Steve but still making him feel small. Tony’s appearance and the power emanating from him combine to make him seem larger than life. It’s also something like damnation that Steve feels as Tony looks at him, like the blue glow of his eyes is the light of Heaven passing judgment on his soul by shining through the body of the man he killed in cold blood. He’s waxing poetic in his last moments.

Tony takes one more step forward. Steve can’t look away from those empty, inhuman eyes. He sees nothing friendly in them, but nothing explicitly angry, either. If he had to put an emotion to them, he’d call them _sad_. Tears drip down Steve’s face, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Whatever end this brings him, he will face it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if everyone subscribed got a bunch of notifications all at once, I decided to name the chapters of this one and had to go back and edit the old chapters to add titles. I don't know if it sends a notification to subscribers when a chapter is edited, but if it does, sorry about that.


	4. Vengeance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello-shellhead on tumblr does absolutely beautiful art and has given me permission to post a link to one of their amazing Tony pieces. I was just starting to think about actually writing this story when I saw it and thought holy crap, that looks like the resurrected Tony from my story. So if you’d like to see sort of how I picture Tony in this (but with that pattern being more extensive), check it out: http://hello-shellhead.tumblr.com/post/159387587651/
> 
> Because I keep referencing it and people picturing the middle of NYC might be confused, the “field” between the Avengers and Thanos is just a clear area of the city, the foundation of a destroyed building or a cleared area of Central Park, maybe.

Steve holds his breath as he stares into those luminous eyes. He finds himself wishing to see the familiar, friendly brown just one last time, even if they’re filled with nothing but anger. If this will be his last sight before he’s killed by the shell of the man he betrayed, he’d at least like to look into his real eyes before he dies. He doesn’t know if this Tony can even see him, or if he can, whether he can process that it’s Steve he’s looking at. But if he can, Steve would like him to know how sorry he is, for everything.

There’s a sense of quiet contemplation as Tony stares at him, like this alien form is examining an insect and wondering whether to crush it. Maybe that really is what’s happening. Thanos, apparently, is unhappy with the lack of activity, because he booms another command to kill them across to Tony. 

Later, Steve will wonder what might have happened if Thanos hadn’t spoken at that moment. Maybe everything would have been the same, or maybe Tony would have killed the Avengers and spent the rest of his renewed existence as Thanos’s puppet. He’ll never really know, but the question will always be a part of the extensive list of things that haunt him.

Because as soon as Thanos speaks again, Tony’s head snaps to the side, turning back to look over his shoulder at the Titan’s throne. The movement is fast, inhuman. Steve doesn’t want to do anything to bring Tony’s attention back to him, but he can’t help the explosive breath he lets out. When that gaze shifts away from him, a crushing weight of guilt and fear that he hadn’t even realized was building up disappears. 

Thanos frowns when Tony turns back to face him, like he’s irritated by this inconvenience. He’s silent as Tony walks back to the edge of the platform and stands facing him across the space between them. Tony’s head cocks slightly to the side and Thanos’s smile returns, dangerous and sneering.

“You think you can challenge me, boy?” Thanos stands from the throne and strides forward, covering half the distance to the platform in just a few steps. He raises the gauntlet and drops the smile. “I can destroy you as easily as I made you.”

Tony walks off the edge of the platform, but he doesn’t fall to the ground. He stands, suspended in midair, eye level with Thanos, who scowls and clenches his gauntleted fist. The stones within it glow, once again too bright to look at directly, and their light fills the space between them, extending out with a life of its own to surround Tony.

But nothing happens. Tony stands there, surrounded by the light of the Infinity Stones, but his own light seems to be creating some sort of barrier around him. Thanos lets out a growl and the gauntlet pulses even brighter, making the air around Tony seem to bend and warp.

Tony starts to crumple down and Steve’s heart sinks, seeing that he is succumbing to Thanos’s power—but suddenly he realizes that Tony isn’t falling at all, but crouching down, readying himself. In the next moment, Tony launches himself at Thanos, leaving a streak of bright blue behind him as he flies forward with unnatural speed.

Thanos lets out a deafening roar and brings up a gigantic arm to swat at the incoming figure. Steve expects Tony to be flung back, but where they meet, there’s an explosion of light and power that shakes the ground all the way back to the Avengers’ platform. Steve feels trapped and more helpless than ever before, strung up and forced to watch this battle without any interference. There’s likely nothing he could do against this kind of power, but not being able to do _anything_ is painful.

Tony may be tiny compared to Thanos, but he is maneuverable and fast, and his raw power appears to rival Thanos’s. Between the constant vibration of the ground shaking their platform and the bursts of bright light and warping air where Tony and Thanos are fighting, Steve can barely see them, and he has no way to really tell how the battle is going. The infinity gauntlet is whipping back and forth, releasing increasingly intense bursts at Tony, but Tony seems to be immune to its powers somehow. 

The fight grows in intensity, and just as Steve starts to think they’re going to shake apart the ground itself, the air clears enough for him to see as Tony gets his hands on the infinity gauntlet.

Steve wouldn’t have thought the sound was possible, but Thanos _screams_. The arm jerks violently to the side and Steve is sure Tony will be thrown off, but it’s as if Tony is stuck to the gauntlet now that he’s touched it. Tony’s blue glow intensifies and surrounds himself and the gauntlet he’s holding onto. Thanos begins pulling back against Tony as if he’s trying to yank his arm out of the gauntlet, and a moment later, Steve realizes why.

Thanos’s arm is disintegrating, shredding apart at the wrist where it emerges from the gauntlet. The solidified light of Tony’s power seems to be attacking it. The arm seizes and jerks briefly back and forth, Thanos clearly desperate to dislodge Tony before his connection to the gauntlet is broken, but the movements are short and ineffective. Tony appears to hold on with no problem, and the destruction of the arm doesn’t slow.

Steve has to close his eyes for a moment when the arm is fully cut. There’s a burst of unbearably bright light that, even with his eyes closed, temporarily blinds him. When he has blinked the spots from his vision and looks back across the field in front of him, he actually gasps at what he sees. Thanos is on the ground a dozen yards from where they were fighting, clearly thrown back when Tony took possession of the gauntlet. The stump of his arm isn’t bleeding, but blackened and shriveled, and the destruction still appears to be creeping up the limb towards the shoulder of his armor. 

Tony, on the other hand, is still floating thirty feet in the air, letting the dust that Steve assumes is the remnants of Thanos’s hand fall out of the gauntlet. He then contemplates it for a moment, with the same curious, almost naïve expression with which he’d looked at Steve earlier, back when Steve had been sure Tony was nothing but a puppet of Thanos, there to kill the Avengers. The entire world seems to stand still while Tony considers the gauntlet, then slowly, Tony puts his own arm inside it.

The massively climactic event that Steve is expecting actually doesn’t happen. The bright glow of the activated Infinity Stones, which had diminished when their connection to Thanos was cut, returns to its previous intensity, but there’s no explosion of light or shaking of the ground. Instead, the swirling lights of the stones surround the gauntlet and begin climbing up Tony’s arm. It reminds Steve of how Tony’s attack on Thanos crept up his arm, and he doesn’t like it. He wants to shout at Tony to take the thing off, to get rid of it.

But Thanos is stirring on the ground, letting out an enraged roar and climbing to his feet. The blackening at his left arm stops, and the arm actually begins rebuilding itself as Steve watches. He’s reminded that Thanos was a powerful figure even before he began collecting the Infinity Stones. 

Tony turns in the air to look down at Thanos, who now looks like the smaller figure, down on the ground and looking up at the creation that turned on him and ripped the gauntlet from his possession. Thanos makes a move like he’s planning to take to the air as well, but Tony raises the arm now sporting the gauntlet, and suddenly Thanos is writhing on the ground. The lights of the stones are now surrounding him the way they surrounded Tony a few minutes ago. However, unlike Tony, they seem to penetrate his body, and begin tearing him apart.

It doesn’t take long. The indescribable noise that Thanos makes rings in Steve’s ears for a while after the body is finished disintegrating, and he thinks his ears might actually be bleeding, but at least it’s over quickly. The silence in the wake of Thanos’s death is deafening, and once again the world seems to be standing still. There’s at least a full minute of nothing but silence as the swirling lights of the Infinity Stones fade away from the spot where the body was.

Then chaos breaks out. When they had brought down the first Leviathan in the original battle of New York years ago, the other Chitauri had sent out a rallying call, and intensified their attacks on the city and the Avengers. That doesn’t happen now. The aliens that make up Thanos’s guards and armies, high and low ranking alike, scatter in the wake of their leader’s death. Steve knows that none of them came close in power level to Thanos himself, and seeing him taken apart by the Infinity Stone-wielding Tony, they must have realized they wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

A cry goes up among the aliens, but it speaks of fear, not vengeance. There are human shouts and screams being interspersed in the alien cries. From his position, Steve can see across the clear space where Tony is to Thanos’s throne, but he can also see parts of several of the camps, and beyond a skyscraper standing behind the throne, the edge of the bulk of one of the alien flagships. It’s this ship and its surrounding smaller vessels that the aliens are now running for. They’re abandoning the camps, the groups of people they’re supervising, and making for their ships as quickly as possible.

As several of them begin running across the empty space below Tony, Steve sees groups of people chasing them down, tackling and beating at them. Humans carrying some of the aliens’ weapons run through the clearing and begin firing at the retreating guards. It’s complete chaos, and Steve yanks frantically at his bindings, wanting to be down in the crowd, fighting or at least attempting to protect some of the people who are in the way, pulling children out of the way of the stampeding mobs.

The screams suddenly increase in pitch and Steve sees several people pointing upwards. At first he thinks they’re pointing up at Tony, who’s still floating in the same place, gauntlet raised. But as he looks up farther, he sees what’s drawn everyone’s attention. The enormous portal over New York, the original one opened on the first day of the invasion, is fragmenting. The sparkling black center of the portal, opening into the far reaches of space, is fading in and out, then disappears completely as the solid edge of the circle cracks and breaks off entirely. The sounds of panic from the aliens increase in volume as their exit is destroyed.

The sound of engines can be heard even over all of the chaos on the ground, and the massive flagship begins rising into the air. He can see the tiny shapes of aliens in the distance leaping onto the outside hull of the flagship as their fellows take off without them, too focused on getting away from Tony to wait for them. The smaller ships start up and begin rising up as well, but instead of flanking the flagship, they take off immediately in different directions. Some skim along the tops of buildings and off into the distance, perhaps heading for other portals over the planet. Steve wonders about the reach of Tony’s power, whether he could have destroyed all of the portals over the Earth at once. Some of the smaller ships seem to reach the same conclusion, because they blast straight up away from the surface of the planet, simply trying to escape out into space. Steve has no idea how close Earth actually is, without portals or magic, to any other inhabited planets in the galaxy, or how much fuel the aliens have in their smaller ships, but they don’t seem concerned with anything beyond getting the hell away from the planet.

As he watches the flagship rise and the engines power up for fast flight, he sees more movement from Tony, outlined against the shape of the ascending ship. Tony waves his gauntleted arm toward the ship, then jerks it backward in a fast, violent motion. A massive cracking sound echoes through the streets, and Steve gapes as he sees the enormous ship actually begin to split in half. The engines on either side are still going and are gaining power, which works against them as the ship falls apart. As the two halves of the ship pull away from each other, the active engines on each half drive them further apart, pulling the halves completely apart in a matter of seconds. One half of the ship dives to the ground immediately, disappearing behind a building as it falls. Steve hears the crash and feels the ground shake when it hits, and he sees flaming debris flung past the side of the nearby building a moment later. The other half of the ship manages to remain airborne for a few more moments, angled upward and continuing to rise, until the half-gone engines and ruined shape of the ship bring it down as well. The extra distance it had traveled pulls it completely out of Steve’s sight, but he still feels and hears the crash.

The remaining aliens are in a complete panic. It’s absolute pandemonium below the Avengers’ platform and, he imagines, everywhere now that people have realized that Thanos is dead and his armies are scattered and frightened. Crowds are overtaking the aliens, but people and aliens alike are being trampled in the chaos. Between the mixed vocalizations of humans and aliens, the whining of the remaining small ships’ engines as they take off, and the still echoing sound of the flagship halves crashing, Steve knows shouting for someone to come and free them would be pointless.

Despite everything going on on the ground, Steve finds his attention suddenly drawn upward to Tony. The glow of the Infinity Stones has almost completely surrounded his figure, and his own blue light barrier looks significantly smaller than it was during the fight with Thanos. The distorted air around him is visibly pulsing, waves of power pushing out around him. Steve isn’t sure if this is an effect of using the gauntlet or something else, but it worries him. Ignoring the chaos below completely, Tony slowly lowers the arm with the gauntlet to hold it out in front of him and looks down at it. He seems to be contemplating it again, like he did when he first put it on. 

This time, however, the expansion of light is unexpected. Without any visible action, Tony is suddenly at the center of a sphere of clashing powers, his own appearing to be almost fighting against the stones’ power for space. Steve has no idea what exactly is happening, but he thinks Tony might be fighting the Infinity Stones themselves. He tries to track the light show happening around Tony, but there’s no way to tell what’s going on, whether Tony is winning.

Steve is aware, on some distant level, that whatever is happening with Tony above him has attracted the attention of some of the crowd below as well. An area in the field between the Avengers and the throne is clearing again, people moving back and away from the expanding sphere of light around Tony, which is now just feet from touching the ground at its very bottom. As Tony attracts more and more attention, some of the noise of the crowd dies down, and they back away further, clearing a larger area of the field. The sphere around Tony is still expanding.

Just as the light is about to touch the ground, it implodes completely. Tony’s figure, still suspended in the air and holding out the gauntlet, is haloed in just his bright blue glow, and there is no trace of the colored light of the stones anywhere but at their places in the gauntlet itself, from which they shine like they had when Thanos wielded the gauntlet. Before Steve can do more than wonder if this means Tony has taken control of them, the gauntlet and the stones shatter.

The explosion is instant. It seems to be made entirely of a bright, white light, but there’s power behind it, too. Steve doesn’t even have time to slam his eyes closed before it’s blinded him, and less than a second later, he feels the shockwave hit him. Background noise, the screams that must be sounding at the sudden wave of power, all fade away behind the rushing in Steve’s ears—he can’t tell if it’s his own ears rebelling against the force pushing against them, or if the light itself is somehow making a sound.

The shockwave has already lasted at least ten seconds, and the force behind it just keeps growing. Steve can feel the frame he’s tied to begin to pull up from its mooring on the platform, and then it splinters and breaks, throwing him backward onto the floor of the platform. Still tied and unable to break his fall, his head slams into the bottom of the platform, and he blacks out for a moment.

When he regains his senses, the force of the shockwave has abated, though his body still feels like it weighs several tons. He blinks rapidly, but can’t see anything beyond the blur from the intense light. He pulls at his arms and realizes that with the splintering of the frame, his bindings have loosened, and he manages to work one arm free. His head is pounding and he still can’t see anything beyond vague shapes and shadows even after a minute, but he works his one free arm up the length of the other and manages to snap the weakened bonds on that one as well.

Pulling his arms down to his sides for the first time in nearly a month is an exercise in agony. He bites back a scream as he tries to shake feeling back into his suddenly tingling hands. He can now see the outline of his hands as he moves them in front of his face. When he plants them on the ground and pushes himself up, all new pains in his head and back make themselves known, but he pushes through and forces himself to sit up. After a few more moments of blinking, he is able to focus enough to see the bindings on his legs, so he reaches his numb arms down and snaps those as well. His ears still aren’t registering anything but a rushing sound, but he shakes his head and staggers to his feet.

His vision is nearly cleared. He stumbles over to Natasha and Clint’s frames, which have also splintered and fallen back. They are both unconscious—the serum must have pushed him through the effects of the shockwave faster than them, and they had been worse off than him physically before everything with Tony happened—but he removes their bindings as well and tries to arrange them comfortably as quickly as he can, before turning back to face the field and the throne.

All of the people, as far as he can see, have been pushed to the ground as well. Many of them are unconscious, but many, not as weakened by exhaustion and starvation and torture as Steve, are already picking themselves up. There are a few scattered aliens; there’s no way to tell whether they’d already been taken down by the crowd before the explosion, but none of them appear to be getting up. Inevitably, everyone’s eyes are drawn upward.

Tony is still in the same place, suspended in the air and glowing brightly, but his eyes are closed and there is no trace of the Infinity Stones or the gauntlet. His arms are spread gracefully out at his sides. The ringing in Steve’s ears has died down, but there’s nothing to hear—the field is silent, almost reverent as they all look up at the figure above them. Then, suddenly, it’s as though strings suspending Tony have been cut. He drops. He doesn’t descend fast enough to be falling uncontrolled, but a vision of another time, another Tony falling in New York after saving them all, forces its way into Steve’s mind at the sight.

Steve moves to the edge of the platform and jumps off, landing heavily and clumsily on his still-weak limbs. A shock of pain goes up his legs and back, but he forces himself upright and staggers forward towards the clearing at the center of the field. He needs to get to Tony. Tony is slowing down as he gets closer to the ground, and Steve is still at least twenty yards away when Tony falls below his sight line above the heads of the crowd. Steve pushes his aching body forward even faster, determined to reach the center of the crowd. Losing sight of Tony somehow feels wrong, and he needs to see what becomes of him. He’s not entirely sure why, what he will see—what he expects, or even what he wants to see—but he just _needs_ to be there. He pushes forward, relentless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a bit longer than I thought, but I still finished it in a day!


	5. Last Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, sorry about that, but the next one will be longer. This is the last chapter from Steve’s point of view, starting at the next we’ll be switching to Rhodey’s for the remainder of the story.

It seems like an eternity before Steve manages to reach the center of the circle of onlookers, squeezing between shocked citizens and stumbling around still-prone bodies. He stops, panting, at the edge of the circle people have cleared around Tony and finally lays his eyes on him again.

Tony is kneeling on the ground, hunched over where he landed. His back is to Steve and he isn’t moving, but the brightly glowing lines are still covering his entire body. Steve had thought maybe they would disappear with the destruction of the Infinity Stones. He’d also been worried that destroying the things that had brought Tony back would kill him again. Maybe that would have been for the best—was this resurrected, alien-looking thing inhabiting Tony’s body even him? If it was him, or whatever was left of him after his death, would he want to be alive, if he was aware? Steve himself knows he wouldn’t want this done to him. But he doesn’t think he could handle killing Tony (again), even if it was to preserve Tony’s own dignity. Even if it wasn’t really Tony.

He wonders, suddenly, if Tony’s even alive. He becomes aware that he can’t tell if Tony is breathing, but does he even need to breathe? Tony still isn’t moving, utterly still where he’s hunched over on the ground. People are still standing in a circle around him, staring, too shocked to do anything. It’s nearly silent in their circle.

But that’s changing. As all the chaos dies down, people are waking from being knocked out by the stones’ shockwave and realizing that it’s really over, that Thanos is dead, the aliens have run or been killed, they’re all free again. There is a cheer going up around them, ecstatic and relieved and raw. Steve can hear sobs in the crowd, but the rising noise is mostly shouts of joy, and it’s worlds better than the confusion and screams of earlier.

Still, the crowd immediately around Tony seems yet again to be numb to their surroundings, ignoring the celebration, too distracted by watching their savior. Tony still hasn’t moved, but the people who can see him are staring, mesmerized, as though they can’t hear the shouts and the movement around them. Steve still can’t tell if Tony is breathing, or moving in any way, and he can’t just stand here any longer.

He pushes his aching body forward, infused with new strength borne of determination. He manages about five steps into the small clear space around Tony, moving around Tony’s still form so that he can be at his side. He plans to crouch down to Tony’s level, see if he’s awake, but he only gets halfway to Tony before hands are suddenly gripping his arms and pulling him back.

He should be stronger than them, but even after he recovers from the initial surprise of being touched and pulled back at all, he fails to fight them off. There are at least three people holding him back, away from Tony, and he is weak and still in pain. He turns to demand that they let him go, to say that someone needs to check on Tony, but stops short at the blazing fury in the eyes of the man who steps in front of him. 

“You’ve done enough damage here. You won’t touch him again,” the man snarls, and Steve feels like he’s been punched. Tony’s death had been an accident, a fight gone horribly wrong, it wasn’t cold-blooded, purposeless murder (was it? He knew, if he thought about it enough—which he usually didn’t—that Tony hadn’t been trying his hardest in that fight. But Steve had been, God, Steve had fought to kill). After everything that had happened, after Tony had just saved them all, surely these people didn’t think that Steve would be a danger to Tony now?

He opens his mouth to defend himself, to assure them that he only wants to check on Tony, to say something—anything. But nothing comes out, and he closes it again, chest feeling tight. He glances between the faces of the people around him, those whose attention had been drawn by the movement and the man speaking. He sees nothing but suspicion, anger, and outright hatred. Even in his obviously weakened state, even after everything that had happened in the last month, these people still think he’s capable and willing to attack Tony. They still hate him.

A small, logical part of his mind can’t blame them. They’d gone through hell for the last month, failed by their so-called “protectors” and thinking that they would die any day, here or on some distant planet as slaves. Then, miraculously, they’d been saved by Tony reincarnated. Tony’s death had spared him from responsibility for protecting the Earth from Thanos in the initial invasion, from becoming the disappointment that the other Avengers were when they failed to save the planet. And then he’d managed to defeat Thanos anyway. Now Steve, the man who’d killed him, the man who, if not for Thanos’s intervention, had ended the world’s last hope, was trying to come near him again. He could understand people’s anger, but it hurts. 

While he’s standing there, trying to process these revelations and come up with something to say that will convince people to let him go, the spell over the circle seems to break. People start moving around, some creeping cautiously toward Tony’s form. As they come closer, Steve becomes too preoccupied with watching them to even try to be released himself.

A man crouches down in front of Tony, mirroring his position, and another woman does the same. The two exchange glances, then the man cautiously says, “uh… Mr. Stark? –Tony?” Steve is looking at Tony from the side instead of the back now, but with his head bowed as it is, he can’t see if Tony’s eyes are even open. Whether they are or not, there’s no response.

The woman tries his name again, tentatively reaching her hand out like she’s going to put it on his shoulder, but then withdrawing it instead. They’re afraid to touch him. Just as she and the man are looking helplessly at each other again, Tony finally moves.

Tony’s head lifts, and Steve can see even from the side that his eyes are glowing as brightly as before, when he approached Steve on the platform. Steve wonders if the man crouched in front of Tony can feel the same awful weight of that alien gaze that Steve could, but Tony doesn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. Still, Steve feels some sharp emotion—he’s not sure exactly what, but it feels like a mix between relief and apprehension—at the confirmation that Tony is, in some way at least, still alive.

The man in front of Tony doesn’t seem to know what to do or say. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he asks, “Are you—are you okay?” then immediately grimaces, as if realizing what a ridiculous question that was. 

Tony’s head doesn’t turn, but from the way the man suddenly looks a bit shell-shocked, Steve can guess that Tony’s looking directly at him now. “I—can we do anything for you?” The man asks, but once again, he doesn’t get an answer.

Tony’s head moves, turning toward the ground for a moment and back up, then back and forth slightly, as if he’s assessing his surroundings. The people closest to him all exchange worried looks, and Steve can tell they don’t know what to do. Steve isn’t sure either. Should they be worried that Tony isn’t speaking to them? _Can_ Tony even speak? Even if he can, is he capable of communicating what he wants or needs? There are a million questions running through Steve’s mind about this thing that Thanos resurrected, and no answers seem forthcoming. 

A different man walks up beside the first and bends down on one knee. “You saved us. You saved us all,” he says, tears in his eyes. From what Steve can see, Tony just stares at him, but it seems to galvanize the others. There are suddenly soft murmurs of thanks coming from all around the circle, and Steve notices that new people are coming up, joining the crowd around Tony. Some of them come forward as the new man retreats, bending down and offering their own teary or joyful gratitude. Tony is silent and staring through all of it, though he looks back and forth at each person who addresses him. The people don’t seem to mind. They appear to have accepted that Tony won’t speak to them, and are content to just offer their thanks for what he’s done.

Someone approaches from the back, holding out a large gray blanket, which they tentatively wrap around Tony’s shoulders. The action suddenly reminds Steve that Tony is still unclothed; his strange appearance has almost made Steve forget about it, and his markings practically look like clothing of a sort. Everyone holds their breath when the person with the blanket touches Tony with it, and they all seem to collectively breathe a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment when nothing happens. Even from the side, Steve can see Tony’s eyebrows furrow slightly and his hand rise up to lightly touch the edge of the blanket, as though he’s not sure what it is.

The crowd starts to get a little louder around them. There are still people coming up to offer their thanks to Tony and to try to ask whether they can do anything for him, but he is still silent, and the circle is closing in on him. However, when Tony shifts and starts to stand, those closest immediately back up to give him space, and a hush falls over the crowd again. Tony holds the edges of the blanket to him with one hand and rises to his feet smoothly, then turns and looks around like he’s scanning the crowd.

Steve is suddenly seized by a need to make himself known. He doesn’t know whether Tony will look his way and really see him, whether Steve’s height or mere presence will be enough to catch his attention, smothered as he is between several other people. Steve can’t take that chance. Even if Tony isn’t talking, he needs to say something to him, to get him out of the open and somewhere more private, to try to help him. Maybe it’s atonement for what he did to Tony, or for failing to protect the Earth against Thanos, that he feels he needs to protect Tony now. Whatever the reason, he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, preparing to get Tony’s attention, shout if necessary.

He doesn’t get the chance. He’d underestimated the amount of attention the people closest to him were paying him. As soon as he opens his mouth, eyes on Tony and his intent to shout out clear, someone’s hand slaps over it. Once again, he’s surprised enough by the action that he doesn’t really fight it, even though he probably could have just yanked his head away from the hand and shouted anyway. He just stands there, dumbstruck, staring at the woman whose hand is now covering his mouth and the others holding onto his arms with renewed grips, glaring intensely at him.

The man who’d first spoken to him gestures sharply and the people holding Steve begin to drag him backwards, away from the circle and Tony. Steve twists and digs in his heels, but as they slow, the man steps toward him to hiss into his ear. “Don’t you dare get any closer to him, don’t talk to him, he does _not_ need to see you right now, you understand me?” the man says, and it stings Steve enough that he stops struggling. There’s truth to that and it hurts. If Tony really is aware, if he knows who Steve is and what he did, would he want to see Steve?

But Steve needs to explain, or at least to just _talk_ to Tony, to see him plainly for a while. He won’t get the chance, however, because there are even more people pulling on him than before now, and in his shocked and weakened state, he can’t fight them off. He’s being herded backwards, away from the circle around Tony. 

He can still see Tony through the crowd, but just barely. Tony has started walking, not in any particular direction that Steve can tell, just wandering. As he moves, the crowd in front of him parts easily, falling away silently and clearing a path for Tony to go wherever he likes.

Steve, on the other hand, is being pulled God knows where by these people, away from Tony, and he can’t stop it. He is hit by the sudden, intense conviction that he might never see Tony again, but it paralyzes him rather than giving him strength. He killed the man, and now he could have a chance to rectify that, but that would require being with Tony, and he’s being taken away. His breath hitches as he loses sight of Tony, and what could be his last chance slips through his fingers.


	6. Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is a sort of flashback/recap, covering the invasion up to present for Rhodey, so it’ll be in past tense (sorry for all the switching, but this should be the last chapter to do that).
> 
> I’m not sure if it was specified in Civil War, but in this story Rhodey was in an American hospital after his injury. It’s most likely that he would have gone straight to the nearest German hospital right after the fall, but after he was stabilized he was transferred to a hospital in Manhattan somewhat near the Tower—at least that’s what I’m going with here.
> 
> After some back and forth in another story, I’ve decided to just call him “Rhodey” for this entire story. I know Rhodey probably thinks of himself as Jim or James, but I claim the right to just call him Rhodey since it’s in third person, and also because I don’t want to write “Jim” for the whole story. I just don’t like it.

Rhodey might not ever remember much of the days between the fight at the airport and the beginning of the invasion, but he’ll always remember falling very clearly. He’d felt fear before on missions, realized that things were going south and that he could very well die. But being in the suit, it was different, somehow. Of course nothing, even Tony’s suits, was completely infallible, but he’d just felt so… free in the suit. Tony was always by his side and he spent more of his time worrying about his best friend than himself. 

But being hit, and falling in the dead suit, that was terrifying, more than any mission he’d ever been on. That moment, where he was going to crash and could do absolutely nothing about it, where he realized that his beloved suit was about to become his coffin, had seemed to stretch on forever.

Waking up paralyzed was certainly no fun, but he knew the deal. He always went into every fight understanding the potential consequences, the ways it could go wrong. He fought because he needed to, because he believed in what he was doing. The fight at the airport was no different. The Avengers gone rogue needed to be stopped, and he was willing to risk life and limb to stop them. It didn’t make the actual injury suck any less, but at least it was for something important.

One of the most disorienting aspects of waking and learning about his new reality was the conspicuous absence of Tony. He knew Tony would have put almost anything aside to be at his side through that, and Vision confirmed that Tony had already been to see him, learned something about his injury before leaving to try and confront the captured Rogues about Rogers and Barnes’s whereabouts. 

Vision said they hadn’t heard from him since, he’d cut communication shortly after his visit to the Raft. They speculated on a mission to track Rogers that would require radio silence to be kept from Ross, but Rhodey was worried, and he could tell Vision was too. When Ross’s deadline for capture came and went, Vision went to FRIDAY to try to track down Tony’s last known location. He departed for Siberia with the promise to return soon with news of Tony.

He brought back a body.

Rhodey hardly heard Vision’s explanation of finding Tony, his assessment of the situation—until he caught on one thing. Rogers. Rogers had done this. Rhodey had practically flung himself from his bed at the news, intent on tracking Rogers down himself and making him _suffer_. 

He’d ended up under guard at the hospital, after multiple attempts to get out. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was planning to do once he got out, but he just felt an overwhelming need to do _something_. He knew it was his helplessness and anger coming out. When Tony had been missing in Afghanistan, at least Rhodey could plan, search, and hope. But knowing Tony was dead, having confirmation, and knowing that he’d been lying in a hospital bed while his best friend was murdered by a former teammate… he wasn’t handling it well.

Pepper got into contact with him two days after Vision brought Tony back to the States. That eased a bit of his restlessness, but it wasn’t pleasant. Rhodey’s grief came out as anger and frustration, and Pepper’s came out as anxiety and sadness. She could barely stop crying, and he was on edge. It didn’t work well for either of them, but he was able to force himself to calm down in order to help her. He didn’t want to shout at her, to ruin one of the friendships he still had.

A day after they’d begun planning for arrangements, the news got out. They’d known it was inevitable, but it was still a shock—a painful one—to turn on the tv the next morning and see Tony’s picture on every channel, hear these people who hadn’t known him talking about his death and making it into a production.

People weren’t stupid. They all knew about the split between the Avengers, and that Rogers and Tony had been on opposite sides. There was speculation immediately about the cause of Tony’s death. It was the few hardcore Captain America fans suggesting that Tony had “turned evil” and had to be put down that made them release an official statement earlier than planned. Red-eyed but composed, Pepper went before the media that afternoon to tell them that in his attempt to arrest the fugitives Steve Rogers and James Barnes for their numerous crimes, Tony Stark had been killed by the criminals. The evidence from Germany and Romania, the continued outcry from Lagos, and the families of all of the Avengers’ victims were more than enough to back them and condemn Rogers and his group for life. 

People were calling out for the ex-Avengers’ blood, and the one person who would have considered helping them was dead by their hands. Pepper, Rhodey, and Vision did nothing to stop the tidal wave of anger and hatred for the former Avengers. They focused their efforts on making arrangements for Tony’s body and funeral. 

Not that it mattered. Thanos arrived the day before Tony’s body was scheduled to be moved to a funeral home for embalming. For the next month, Rhodey tried not to think about what had happened to the body, too focused on keeping himself alive.

They were overwhelmed laughably fast. The military was out in force, but they were falling to the incoming armies like they were made of paper. They contacted Rhodey less than three hours into the invasion, asking about War Machine, but Rhodey had nothing to tell them. He was in no condition to fly, his only suit had been practically destroyed at the airport, and it was only coded to him, anyway. Tony had multiple suits on backup, but even if they were available, they were only coded to Tony, any besides, it’s not like any old soldier could hop in one and hope to do anything with it. It took serious skill to pilot one of them. It didn’t matter either way, because they all would have been locked down permanently on confirmation of Tony’s death, and eventually destroyed. Tony wouldn’t have taken the chance that someone would misuse his most powerful technology upon his death. 

There would be a back door left in, he knew. Tony always had backup plans for his backup plans. There would be a way for Rhodey, maybe Peter or Harley, possibly even Pepper, to get in at one of his suits if they needed to after he died. But Rhodey was useless, Pepper had no experience piloting the suits, and there was no way Rhodey would involve the kids. One Iron Man suit couldn’t repel this invasion anyway, and he wouldn’t want to risk that the aliens could take it over, bypass Tony’s safeguards and use his technology in the worst way possible. That was exactly what Tony had been trying to prevent by ensuring the destruction of his suits after his death.

For the same reason, he knew FRIDAY was gone once the invasion started. She’d stuck around to help with the arrangements for Tony after his body had been brought back, but any fully self-sufficient AI that Tony created was too valuable and too potentially dangerous to be left alone if he died. FRIDAY would have destroyed her own code after she’d fulfilled her last duty to her creator; the invasion had cut that short, so Rhodey knew she was gone by now. In the old days—the JARVIS days—Tony would never have even entertained the thought of letting his child, for all intents and purposes, kill itself after he was gone, but… well, things had changed after Ultron. Tony had become withdrawn and frightened of his own potential. He’d limited FRIDAY in ways he never would have done with JARVIS at first, and when he’d eventually freed her to live up to her full potential, he’d introduced the idea of destruction at his death and other safeguards. FRIDAY had readily agreed—JARVIS would have too—but the fact that Tony had proposed it at all proved how beaten down he’d become in his last few years. The thought made Rhodey ache.

Vision was with him in the hospital when the invasion began, and when it became obvious that the military was quickly losing, he left to face Thanos alone, the only Avenger left. He said it was his duty, and Rhodey hadn’t disagreed, but some part of them both knew that he was going to his death. This wasn’t anything like the Chitauri invasion years ago, where there had been hope permeating the destruction and giving life to the fighters. This was despair come to life.

Superheroes and villains alike banded together all over the globe, some coming out of the woodwork for the first time, but they were all struck down. King T’Challa of Wakanda announced his intention to work with the Rogue Avengers to repel the invasion, and people were terrified enough to accept it for the time being. Rhodey’s fury at the evidence that T’Challa had taken in the murderers had to be put aside for the need for any help in the invasion, however much it made him sting to admit it. At least the bastards would die trying to protect people. They lost contact with Wakanda—with everywhere else—by day three, when the incoming armies finished subduing New York, and Rhodey could only assume that everyone there had been killed.

Rhodey could only sit, helpless, as New York, and soon the rest of the country, eventually the rest of the world, was overtaken. Over the first three days of the invasion, the hospital and the surrounding area took some heavy blows, walls and floors shaking, people screaming in the halls. The power flickered occasionally despite their backup generators. Rhodey sat grimly through it all, just waiting to see what would happen, because there was nothing else he could do. The internet and the phone lines were congested, and eventually blocked by some kind of interference, probably from the massive flagship that Rhodey could see descending onto the city from his window. He had no way of contacting Pepper, anyone in the military, or any of his friends or family. He felt a few moments of shuddering despair for the fact that his mother was most likely going to die alone, afraid, never having heard from him again. He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks.

On day four, the city (and probably the rest of the country, though he had no way of knowing) had been completely overtaken and essentially surrendered, and the aliens began rounding people up. The hospital and other heavily populated buildings were cleared early. Guards came in and herded everyone out, cleared each floor methodically. The people too sick to move were left behind to die. Rhodey, at least, was able to wheel out with the rest of them.

People from all over the city were being gathered into makeshift camps, each containing thousands of people. In his brief time outside, he could see the enormous portal over the city, through which there was a constant flow of ships going both in and out. There were obvious signs of battle in the city, but for the most part, the infrastructure was actually intact—it seemed this invasion was focused on containment and capture of the people, rather than straight destruction like the Chitauri. Masses of people were marching in various directions, probably to their own camps. It was a grim picture of hopelessness.

Rhodey’s camp turned out to be the bottom floors and outer courtyards of an industrial complex. There were guards at all entrances and exits and scattered among the areas, but other than herding all of the people into the camp and threatening or killing anyone who appeared to have any kind of weapon or tried to attack them, they left everyone alone.

Chaos reigned anyway. People were afraid they were being herded into gas chambers, they’d been separated from their friends and family, they were terrified of the aliens. Everyone was running back and forth in mobs, trampling each other and getting into fistfights, sometimes brawls with many people involved. Rhodey thought he might go deaf from all of the constant screaming. He ended up in a corner of a relatively small open room, just trying to keep out of the way of the pandemonium. It was only made worse when a man pulled a gun from his waistband and tried to shoot one of the guards. The bullet ricocheted off the alien’s armor and hit another man, who went down. The guard immediately shot the man with its own weapon, and the man seemed to disintegrate, which only furthered the panic of everyone in the immediate area. Completely ignoring the people once the threat had been dealt with, the guard turned its back to them, but people were still shoving and screaming, hitting each other and trying to push their way as far from the guards as possible.

There were families clutching each other, backing into Rhodey’s corner to try and protect themselves from the mob. Several other people joined them, some with injuries from getting caught in the chaos. Something needed to be done, but Rhodey had no way of getting anyone’s attention.

Thankfully, two of the others near him seemed to come to the same conclusion. They were holding onto one another, yelling in each other’s ears to be heard over the cacophony, and one turned to bend down to Rhodey’s level, seeing him scanning the crowd calmly instead of screaming and panicking.

“We need to do something!” He yelled, gesturing to the crowd.

“If you can get their attention, I can help organize. But I can’t do anything from here,” Rhodey shouted back, indicating his chair. 

The man eyed the nearest guard. “You think they’ll let us organize everyone?”

“I think as long as we don’t attack them, they don’t give a shit what we do.”

The man nodded and turned to converse with his friend for a minute. They recruited a few more people through shouted conversation, then everyone broke off and moved to surround the room. Half of them found boxes or equipment to climb on, hoisting themselves up above the crowd, while the other half moved through the throng, trying to direct people’s attention to them. It took a long time and Rhodey was beginning to think it wouldn’t work, but eventually, the noise started to die down. People were turning to look at those standing up on boxes, who could now be heard above the crowd, shouting for silence.

When it had reached a tolerable level—there was some background whispering and sobbing still flitting through the crowd, they weren’t going to get rid of that—the climbers started directing attention towards their leader, the man who’d spoken to Rhodey, who was now standing up on an overturned crate next to him.

Rhodey kept an eye on the nearest guard, who was watching the action keenly. It hadn’t raised its weapon, so Rhodey counted it as a win for now, and hoped their attempts to organize wouldn’t be taken as some sort of rebellion. 

The man next to Rhodey cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. “Hey everyone, I know you’re freaked out, but we need to be rational about this. Screaming and trampling each other isn’t going to help. We need to calm down and figure things out.”

Some heads in the crowd nodded. People were looking up to the man hopefully, and for all his bravado in quieting the mob, he seemed a bit lost in the face of being looked at as their leader. He glanced nervously down to Rhodey.

Rhodey did another quick scan of the people he could see. A few had packs or purses with them. “Okay,” he said, looking up to the man next to him, “I need anyone who has any kind of supplies or bags with them to bring them over here.”

The man nodded, looking relieved, and started relaying Rhodey’s orders to the other climbers, who began organizing the shuffling of people over to Rhodey’s corner. “Form a line, people, let’s keep this organized.”

Rhodey wheeled forward a bit to create some space in the corner beside him, where he indicated for people to drop off their supplies. Some readily stepped forward and dropped what they had, but many people clutched their belongings, reluctant to part with them. “Keep your wallets and personal items, we’re looking for water, food, first aid kits, anyone bring blankets?”

It took a while, but they managed to avoid any incidents and gather what meager supplies they had. Rhodey relayed some instructions to the climbers, then looked over what they had while the crowd dispersed a bit and shuffled into smaller groups, finding places to claim as their own. There were maybe 60 people in the room in total, and between all of them, they had two blankets and a travel neck pillow, a single first aid kit which was barely stocked, one flashlight with no extra batteries, several basic toiletries, maybe two pounds of granola bars and other snack foods, and a couple gallons of water total. He sighed and beckoned down the man on the crate next to him.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Matt,” he said, holding a hand out to Rhodey to shake. “NYU student. I think a lot of us who were on campus ended up in this area, but I only see a few people I know here. You’re War Machine, aren’t you?” He had the good sense to keep his voice down, both to avoid drawing the attention of the guards and the crowd. Despite being in a wheelchair and clearly not in any shape to be fighting, if the guards knew he was an Avenger they might kill him on the spot. And if the crowd knew who he was, they could create a panic, either demanding that he do something impossible or trying to throw him out to save themselves from the aliens’ wrath.

Rhodey grimaced. “Not so much anymore, but yeah. Thanks for helping quiet everyone down. I couldn’t have gotten control of the room without you.”

Matt shook his head. “I just didn’t want to get trampled. You’re the one who knows what to do, I had no idea what to say to them.”

Before Rhodey could dispute the statement, another man approached them, clearly having listened in. “I got something you’ll be interested in,” he said in a low voice, hand folded behind his back, underneath his shirt at his waistband. Rhodey knew exactly what he meant, but Matt clearly didn’t.

“What is it?” Matt asked.

“Glock 19, full magazine. More than enough for every one of the bastards in this room.”

Matt jerked back and glanced nervously at the guards, clearly freaked out and at a loss for what to do. “Are you crazy?” he whispered.

The man rolled his eyes, and Rhodey narrowed his eyes at him. “You interested in living another day?”

“Hell yeah,” the man whispered back, grinning, clearly misinterpreting Rhodey’s look.

“Then get that thing the fuck out of here,” Rhodey said firmly, and the man’s smile fell. “Keep it hidden somewhere no one will ever see it, dump it in a trash can, or go put it down at their feet and make it clear you’re not a threat. You can’t fight them with one gun, moron, and even if you managed to hit one, you’d just get yourself disintegrated, and put the rest of us in danger. Now, unless you want to have a real problem here, I suggest you go, and don’t ever let me see it.”

The man’s jaw clenched. “So you’re not even gonna try and fight? Just gonna sit there like a damn coward?”

Rhodey leveled a serious look at him. “You want to find out all the ways I can kick your ass from this chair, son, go ahead. But yeah, I’m interested in staying alive, not getting myself killed like an idiot. So get the fuck out of here.”

The man growled and straightened. He looked at Matt and Rhodey, muttered “cowards” one last time, and stomped away, through the inner doorway past a guard who watched him leave, and into another room, away from their quieted group. As soon as the door closed behind him, Matt let out a shaky breath. “Jesus Christ. Thanks, man, I had no idea what to say to him.”

“Nah, you did good,” Rhodey said with a small smile, considering the kid. “You want to be my right hand man in this?”

Matt didn’t answer right away. He looked out over the crowd for a minute, eyes going unfocused. Rhodey knew the look, and he was going to be seeing a lot of it now. “Who was it?” he said quietly.

Matt glanced over to him, then pulled out his phone, handing it to Rhodey. Rhodey looked briefly along the top, seeing the expected lack of signal and dying battery, then focused on the background picture, Matt with his arm around a young woman. “Faith,” Matt said, “we started dating in high school. She carried a taser, for self-defense on the campus, you know? When they came to the school and starting herding people out, she tried to hit one of them with it, and they shot her with one of those guns. She—disintegrated.” His voice broke on the last word, and Rhodey handed the phone back to him.

“I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t enough, of course, and Matt was far from the only one to lose a loved one in the last few days. But she’d still mattered, and he was still suffering. And there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Matt nodded and put a hand on Rhodey’s shoulder. “I’m sorry too,” and when Rhodey gave him an inquiring look, “about Stark. I know you two were friends.”

Rhodey’s throat tightened. He’d avoided thinking about Tony for the most part since the invasion began, too busy with figuring out what was happening to everyone who was still alive. But now, in the face of inevitable death, the reminder of his best friend, his brother, burned. He had to push it aside. He couldn’t afford to think about Tony, because if he did, the despair could overwhelm him. If he spent too long thinking about Tony, he’d find himself wishing for the peace of death along with him instead of fighting to stay alive as long as possible. He swallowed past the feelings and managed to croak out a weak “Thanks.”

Matt, to his credit, pretended to be looking at his phone for another minute, to give Rhodey a moment to compose himself in relative privacy. After a minute, he crouched down to be at Rhodey’s level and looked out at the room. People were settling down, finding their own spaces as instructed, introducing one another and finding partners to keep track of in a sort of “buddy system” Rhodey had suggested. Matt took a deep breath and let it out. “I want to work with you. It’d be an honor. But I just… can I ask? What’s the goal here? I mean, what are we trying to accomplish?”

Rhodey turned to look him straight in the eye. “Survival. That’s the goal. I’m sorry I can’t do better than that, but for now, that’s all we can do. We can’t fight this.” Rhodey shook his head. “If I’ve learned one thing in life, it’s that unexpected, ridiculous shit happens, and you can never rule it out. If you’re dead, you won’t be here for it. But it’s not a guarantee, and I wouldn’t expect it. I understand why this might seem pointless. Maybe we fight hard, struggle to survive as long as we can, and we live a week instead of a day. But let me ask you this: you’ve already helped people here. You’re making a difference, whatever happens later. So even if the end result is the same, wouldn’t you rather have that week?”

Matt looked at him, and he could see the intensity in the kid’s gaze. He was a fighter. “Yeah,” Matt finally said, “I would.”

Rhodey nodded and managed a small smile. “Good. Let’s get to work, then.”

The next few hours were exhausting, but productive. They managed to make a list of everyone in the room, and make sure everyone had a buddy to keep track of. Matt gathered four other people to be leaders, tasked with making sure larger groups were safe, that their areas were clean, organizing trips to the bathroom—thankfully, their room was directly connected to a working one, and the water would stay on even if the power went out—and reporting any problems or needs to Matt and Rhodey.

They had problem after problem, of course. There were five kids in the room, one of whom had been in the city with his babysitter, who’d been separated from him during the move to the camps. The Browns, another family with children, thankfully took him in with them, but he was freaked out and there wasn’t much they could do about it. There was a diabetic woman in the group who’d been separated from her insulin supply, and several other people also missing their meds; some anxiety, depression, and the usual amalgamation of older people’s medications for blood pressure, cholesterol, heart conditions, and others. And of course, everyone there was hungry and tired and uncomfortable.

After two days, things had only gotten worse. Thankfully, people were cooperating, helping each other rather than devolving into fights again, but there was only so much any of them could do. They had a constant water supply, thank god, but they’d given what little food they had to the kids and their caretakers, the older people, and the people who hadn’t eaten in the longest time, and now it was gone. The blankets and pillow had gone to the families as well, and everyone else was using their own jackets, shirts, and shoes as bedding. 

Rhodey didn’t want to risk Matt and the others, but they were all going to die pretty quickly if they couldn’t get some kind of supplies there, and Rhodey wasn’t as physically capable as the others of going out. He wanted someone by his side to help keep things under control there—Rabia, a lawyer who’d stepped up as one of the group leaders, stayed for that, and they decided to send three of the other leaders out. Matt, his assigned “buddy” Damon, who was a nurse, and Alex, an NYU grad student from Michigan, volunteered to try and venture out for supplies.

Rhodey held his breath as they approached the double doors leading to the outside. The two guards there watched their approach, looking bored as far as Rhodey could read alien body language, but they didn’t raise their weapons, which Rhodey counted as a win.

They all exchanged nervous glances, but despite their obvious anxiety, when Alex spoke, her voice was steady. “We need supplies. If you expect us to stay here and stay alive, we need food and other things. We can go out to some stores close by and get it.”

The guards just stared at them for a while, and they began to shift nervously, but eventually one of the guards made a clicking sound and gestured with its gun for them to go out the doors. Either the aliens could understand them, or they’d just condemned themselves to death for stepping out of line. Rhodey could do nothing but watch as the three of them left. He saw several more aliens approach them just as the doors shut.

He forced himself to look calm when he saw the unsure looks he was getting from some of the people (his people, now, he’d taken up the role of their leader and now he was responsible for them). He hoped he hadn’t just sent three people to their deaths, but they needed supplies, or they’d all be dead sooner rather than later. 

Rhodey wasn’t wearing a watch and didn’t have his phone on him when he left the hospital, and most people’s batteries were dead by now, but Rabia had a working watch. He tried not to ask the time too often, but Rabia occasionally reported it, letting Rhodey know that they’d been gone for hours. He was just starting to consider what he’d say to the group if they didn’t return when there was a bang and some kind of alien sound on the outer doors. Several people jumped and gasped at the unexpected noise, but then the doors opened, and Matt, Alex, and Damon came in, flanked by aliens and pushing or pulling eight heavily laden shopping carts and industrial bins between them.

There were cries of excitement from the group, and Rabia jumped up from Rhodey’s side to join Li, the last leader, to help the others bring in the supplies and to make sure everyone stayed in their places. While they were gone, Rhodey had discussed what to do when they returned, and made sure everyone understood that no matter how excited they were to see what was procured, there couldn’t be a free-for-all.

Matt, Alex, and Damon were smiling at the crowd as people clapped for them and shouted thanks, but there was a stunned look to them that Rhodey didn’t like. Before they left, they’d created a space in an open area down a small hallway behind some heavy equipment that could be used for storage and sorting, and Rhodey wheeled over as they pulled the supplies through and around a bend. He turned to smile at the closest of the group, who were watching the bins move out of sight with hunger and hope. “Give us a few minutes to sort everything and catalog, and we’ll get it out as soon as we can, okay?” He said, and they nodded and smiled.

When he rounded the corner, all five of the leaders were facing him, clearly waiting for his opinion and instruction. The three who’d gone out had dropped the smiles and just looked haunted now, but Rhodey decided that the group’s needs were most important. “First thing’s first,” he said, “we need to make a list of everything we’ve got.”

Damon dug in one of the carts and produced a plain notepad and pen, which he handed to Rabia. Rhodey nodded his approval as they all started moving to unpack the carts and bins, one at a time, listing out the supplies as they went so Rabia could make a record. 

“Where’d you go?” Rhodey asked as they began counting out packs of canned food. 

“Couple diners, a grocery store, two or three offices, a few drugstores, and a clinic,” Matt listed off. “We got lucky. Some of the places had been looted, during the initial invasion, I think, but most of them were intact, and I think we were some of the earliest to get the idea to go out for stuff. We met a few others while we were in the stores, but not many, and everywhere was mostly still full of stuff.”

“We tried not to take excessively,” Alex said, “once we realized there were other people being let out. Seems like you were right, they don’t seem to care what we do as long as we don’t have weapons and we’re under guard when we go out. We talked to the other people we saw, and the guards looked like they were listening in but they didn’t stop us.”

“Guess it’s easier for them if we go and get our own stuff and all they have to do is watch us to make sure we’re not trying anything,” Damon added.

Rhodey nodded and looked at all of the things they’d gathered. “This is amazing, everyone, thank you so much. You did a great job, really incredible.” He returned their weak smiles and they spent the next few minutes in silence except for the continued list of supplies.

They really had done incredibly well, covering a ton of areas. There was enough food for everyone in the group for at least a week—that was without any kind of rationing—and they’d gone for easy things, prepackaged and nonperishable, that didn’t require prep of any kind, but there was still a decent variety. There were bottles of sports drinks that could be distributed, drunk, and then reused for water for everyone. They’d gathered enough toiletries for everyone as well, everything from toothbrushes and deodorant to disposable razors and tampons. There were extra clothes in every size, a few pillows and sleeping bags, and several giant packages of toilet paper. The clinic and drugstores had mostly been looted, but they’d managed to get their hands on some minor medications, including some of the things group members were missing, as well as over the counter supplements, pain meds, and first aid supplies. There were extra flashlights and batteries in case the power went out, packages of plastic and paper bags, string and duct tape and other multi-use items that they might need for any number of things, and even a few magazines and books thrown into the bottom of one of the bins. Damon pulled out a few packages of adult diapers from one of the bins and handed them to Rhodey silently, who forced himself not to react beyond nodding his thanks.

Once they’d made a list of everything, they sat down to begin assembling initial packages for everyone. Some of the things they’d distribute as needed or over time, but for now, everyone was at least getting some toiletries and food. As they settled in to work on assembly, Rhodey finally decided to broach the subject.

“So, what happened out there?” When Matt, Alex, and Damon just looked up at him with confused expressions, Rhodey sighed. “I’m sorry that you had to be the ones to go out, to see whatever you did that’s got you looking so spooked. But I’d like to know.”

Matt took a shaky breath and Damon looked back at the floor, so Alex was once again the one to speak up. “They’ve got everyone in camps like this now, I think,” she said, and her voice was slightly choked. “Some of them are outside, we could see them as we walked by. There were bodies outside a lot of them. The guards’ guns disintegrate people, so I think they killed each other, and had to put the bodies somewhere. We got lucky that we were able to settle everyone down so fast, and that our group is small. There were areas that had to have thousands in one place. Some of them didn’t even have room to sit down.”

Damon took a shaky breath and forced the next words out, still staring at the floor. “They’ve got a setup at one of the big intersections a few blocks away. Ships coming and going all the time, and a line…” He cut off suddenly with a half-muffled sob.

Alex continued for him. “They’re emptying the camps. A big line of people going by into the main intersection. On one side, some of them go into the ships. We saw one of the ships take off with them, and go up through the portal. I don’t know where they’re taking them. On the other side, they go into a big open area, and they’ve got some sort of giant ray or something set up, and they’re killing them. They’re just killing them all, hundreds at a time. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to get here, but eventually they’ll send us there too.”

There were tears running down her face, but she was blinking through them, looking up at Rhodey, stronger than anyone should have to be. He looked around and saw that Rabia and Li were watching them with horrified expressions. They’d stopped their packing. Rhodey put as much strength into his voice as he could. “Well, until that happens, we stay here, and we take care of each other. Because that’s what we can do, and that’s what makes us human.”

These people had stepped up to be leaders for a reason. They were resilient. He could see that they weren’t exactly convinced, but they pushed through to keep helping others. He came to a quick decision. “Listen, I don’t think everyone out there needs to hear this. I know I’m asking a lot, but I think that information should stay among us only. But we all need to agree on that. I’m not your dictator. If you think you should tell them, let me know.”

Matt shook his head. “You’re right. Telling everyone will just make them panic. We finally got them calmed down, and now we have supplies. I mean, I don’t think anyone thinks there’s going to be some magical solution to this, but it’s better not to let them know exactly what we’ve seen happening.”

All the others murmured their agreements and they went back to sorting. It was quiet for a few minutes before Matt spoke up, addressing Rhodey. “When we were in the stores talking to people, we heard some things about the rest of the city. I guess the leader or king or whatever he is, Thando?”

“Thanos,” Rhodey said, fighting the sudden urge to smile at the mispronunciation. Thanos was nothing to smile about.

“Well, they said he’s got an area cleared not too far from here, up a ways, and he sits on this gigantic throne all day, watching the camps, and the Avengers.”

Rhodey’s head snapped up. “The Avengers?”

Matt nodded. “I guess they captured them, at least some of them. This guy at one of the pharmacies, he said they’ve got them strung up on this big platform, like they’re advertising that we lost.” He swallowed visibly.

“Alive?”

“Yeah, though maybe not for long. I guess they look pretty bad.”

Rhodey ground his teeth. Before he’d lost contact with everyone, he got confirmation that Vision had been killed, which meant the only “Avengers” out there were the bastards that had betrayed them all and killed Tony. In the face of so much death and destruction, Rhodey really shouldn’t have any more anger left for them, but he did. Even in this situation, even though they were probably being tortured out there, Rhodey still felt an urge to track them down and punish them himself. Another, less vengeful part of him hoped that they’d be dead soon, just so they could escape whatever misery they were enduring now.

“All of them, do you know?”

Matt thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Not really sure, but I don’t think so. Guy said there were only five of them. Maybe some of them got killed in the fight.”

Rhodey didn’t really know what to do with that information, and no one said anything more about it. He decided to put it out of his mind. It was likely he’d never even get the chance to see the remaining ex-Avengers before he was marched to his own death, and dwelling on them would only distract him from what he needed to do now to take care of his people.

There were tears of joy when they distributed the packages. They got meds out to those who needed them, and organized systems for sharing bedding and extra clothes. There was soap now, and though there wasn’t a shower, they still had running water and an industrial-sized sink, so they sent people in pairs to the bathroom with the newly acquired soap to wash up for the first time in nearly a week. Despite the grim circumstances, the mood was practically elated, and the happiness made even the leaders, burdened with the knowledge of what was going on outside their walls, smile as they passed out supplies.

The upbeat mood didn’t last for long, with no new successes coming in, but at least they weren’t fighting or killing each other. They all settled in as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a month.

They were supporting each other as best as they could, but there wasn’t much more to be done. They’d begun rationing from the beginning, but their food supplies dwindled alarmingly fast anyway. In the second week, Matt and Alex went out again to look for more supplies, but returned empty-handed and grim-faced with the news that everywhere they’d looked had been thoroughly stripped of supplies. The guards wouldn’t let them out again after that.

Matt had also pulled Rhodey aside to tell him what he’d heard from his one interaction with another camp’s leader outside their room. Rhodey stayed in the back for a while, alone, to process. 

So Pepper had found her way in. She must have hid from the aliens in the Tower during the move to the camps, of course there were ways to do it, even with FRIDAY offline. Tony had indeed left her a back door into one of his suits, and she’d used it to make a last stand. He couldn’t blame her, no matter how pointless it had obviously been. They were all going to die anyway, and though he was proud of what he was doing here, taking care of these people, if he had the chance to get back in his suit one more time he’d absolutely take it, even if it meant dying a painful death by alien hands.

But knowing she was gone was still a blow. And thoughts of her, of what must have been going through her mind in her last moments, inevitably brought him to Tony again. He’d done a good job of not thinking about Tony for the past two weeks, but now, as things were as settled as they were likely to be, he sat alone and let himself cry for a while. When he’d let out the emotions he needed to, he pulled himself back together, ready to face his doomed leadership.

Things were degenerating, it was inevitable. Every day Rhodey was relieved that their camp wasn’t being emptied and taken to their deaths, but death was coming at them from multiple angles. They were running out of food, down to rationing quarter meals each day. The power had been intermittently off and now seemed to be off for good, and though the guards had light sources of their own, they didn’t care to light the bathroom or the corners where the group stored their supplies. Their flashlight batteries were running out.

Their small supply of medications had run out, and there were worries among them about what would happen when people who needed them started suffering because of it. Rhodey himself had felt guilty for taking some of the pain meds, but he’d eventually admitted that he needed them. 

They’d been managing his pain in the hospital, and the adrenaline of the first few days of the invasion had kept him from really feeling it. But as the days passed and he spent them sitting in a wheelchair instead of a bed, not taking any medications or eating enough, under constant physical and mental stress, his body was not taking it well. He was in a constant low level of pain that had been growing by the day, and he was struggling with certain tasks. Damon, an experienced nurse, had been happy to help him with certain personal tasks, but he couldn’t do anything about the pain. Rhodey put on a fake smile and didn’t tell anyone else exactly how bad it had gotten, because they were depending on him. But it was getting harder by the day.

A month in, and their food was just about gone. From the extreme rationing, they were all already hungry and irritated. At least, having had the opportunity to build trust and work with each other in the beginning, the people still trusted the leaders and each other, which made everything smoother. But there were more and more petty squabbles breaking out, and they were taking longer to break up or calm down. People were frightened, knowing they were running out of food and not sure what would happen when they did. The leaders were losing hope, worn out by the stress of keeping everyone together and knowing that any day could be the day their camp was chosen to go.

People were spending more and more of their time huddled together, crying or praying. Rhodey had run out of words of comfort. Things were coming to an end, one way or another.

He was giving the very last of their food to the kids when everything changed.


	7. Saved

Rhodey is giving the very last of the food to the kids when a tremor passes through the ground beneath them. They’ve felt the vibrations of the largest ships landing and taking off before, but nothing like this. He has just a moment to wonder whether it’s the arrival of some new death machine when the sound begins.

At first he thinks it’s a scream from someone in the room, but after a moment, he realizes that it’s not a human sound. It’s a cry echoing among the guards, and though he can never tell whether he’s interpreting alien sounds correctly, it seems alarmed. The guards are all looking up and around, speaking in their clicking languages to each other through communicators. One of them flings the doors open, and Rhodey hears the sound of screams, both human and alien, outside.

In the space of a few seconds, all of the guards have left, pushed their way through the people and out the doors with no hesitation. There’s a moment of shock as Rhodey and the leaders look back and forth, and then Matt rushes over to the doors to see what’s happening. He sticks his head out the doors for a minute, then pulls it back in and shouts into the room, “They’re leaving! All of them!”

Now there’s shouting among the humans, as everyone tries to rush for the doors at once. Rhodey stays back and out of the way, not wanting to be pushed out of his chair, and follows the tail end of the group as they all burst outside.

It’s incredibly bright; that’s the only thing he registers at first. There are a few windows high on the walls of the factory floor they’ve been living in for the last month, but it wasn’t the same as being outside. Despite whatever’s happening around them, Rhodey sees that many of the group are just standing there blinking, taking in the feeling of standing in the sunlight for the first time in a month.

The sound of engines pulls him from the moment. The aliens are completely ignoring the humans, calling to each other and sprinting for their ships, small and large alike. The ships are taking off, lifting into the air and moving faster than Rhodey had thought was possible. He can’t fathom what’s causing them all to abandon their posts and leave, and he can’t feel any relief, not when it might mean that something even worse is coming.

There are other people around them now, more than he’s seen in a long time. They’re emerging from their own camps, realizing that the guards have left. A few people are running in various directions, some pounding after the lagging guards and trying to take them down, others taking off for abandoned buildings, probably just trying to get away and hide. But most of them are just standing in the sun like Rhodey’s group, too stunned by the sudden change to do much more.

There’s an increase in the yelling suddenly, and Rhodey begins looking around for the source, some new alien horror, or maybe an unexpected savior driving away the invaders. He can’t find anything, but he realizes that several people are pointing up at the sky at the same time that Matt, next to him, says “holy _shit_.”

He looks up, and can’t look away. The massive portal through which the invading army arrived is flickering like an old movie reel, one second showing the black depths of space and the next the clear blue sky behind it. They watch it go in and out for a moment before the edge of the physical circle splinters off, and the entire thing falls apart.

A cheer goes up around them, but it’s quickly drowned out by the roar of enormous engines. From a few blocks away, he sees one of the giant ships rise from what must have been the kill site that the leaders described after their supply run. He thinks at first that that ship is the entire source of the noise, but it’s not. From across the tops of buildings, he sees the bulk of the main flagship ascending into the sky. 

“Where are they going?” Rhodey wonders aloud. 

Li, who’s standing just next to him, shouts “What?” over the sound.

“Where are they going to go?” Rhodey yells back, fighting to be heard over the combined sound of all the ships’ engines. Now that the portal is gone, are they planning to just fly off into space? He wonders whether the unexpected breakdown of the portal is what caused this panic, but he has a feeling it’s something else. If Thanos is here and still in control, surely he could fix the portal.

He doesn’t need to wonder for long. A sudden, new noise reverberates even over the engines’ whines, sounding like the air itself is breaking apart. People shout and duck down with their arms over their heads instinctually at the sound, but Rhodey’s eye is caught by the flagship.

It cracks in half, splits apart at the seams like a cheaply made toy. There’s a moment or two where it’s still rising, falling apart while it does, and then the halves of it separate. One half falls to the ground immediately, impacting with an Earth-shattering crash that sets some people around him stumbling. The other remains airborne for a few more seconds, then begins to fall as well. By the time it hits the ground, it’s even closer to them than the first half, and the crash from this one actually causes some people to fall to their knees.

The sound of the crash and the whines of the retreating ships echo through the streets for a long time, and Rhodey’s ears are ringing in the aftermath. There are a few moments of stunned silence in which no one moves, and then the yelling resumes. There are mixed shouts of joy and confusion and terror. Something is driving the aliens to run away, but no one can tell what, and Rhodey can tell that he’s not the only one worried about what it means. What if something worse is coming?

The chaos continues, and Rhodey is just about to suggest to Li that they round up the group and consider going back inside for safety when he’s blinded.

A shockwave of powerful light comes out of nowhere. Rhodey can’t see or hear anything, his senses completely overtaken with a bright light and a roaring sound. It feels like he’s suddenly hundreds of feet underwater, like a massive pressure is pushing on him, constricting his chest and weakening his limbs. 

He can feel his chair being pushed backwards, tipping, and then falling. He tries to throw his arms out to catch himself, but it’s like moving through molasses. He’s reminded of extreme G-force training exercises in the Air Force, of how hard it is to make even the simplest motions in the middle of a tight loop in the air, the feeling of experiencing it for the first time, feeling his sight go dim and blacking out. He can feel it coming now, rushing up on him, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

When he comes to, he can’t see or hear. That bright light and the pressure on his ears have ruined his senses for a few minutes—at least, he hopes it’s temporary. He doesn’t know what the light was, or what it means for their immediate future, but he’s sure it was connected to whatever destroyed the portal and the flagship. Hopefully that means it’s on the humans’ side, whatever it is.

He can feel that he’s lying on his side, and when he reaches back he discovers his overturned chair behind him. There’s not much he can do about the situation, not blind and deaf and without any help. If his senses don’t start coming back he’ll have to figure something out, but he allows himself a few moments to just lie there and try to breathe normally again.

The roaring in his ears does start to die down eventually, and after a hell of a lot of blinking, he realizes that he can see some shapes again, outlines of buildings and people. He closes his eyes for another minute, trying to let them readjust, and when he opens them again his vision is almost back to normal.

He looks around and sees that everyone else is in a similar state. Every person in sight is on the ground, though a few are waving their hands in front of their faces or pushing themselves up and rubbing their ears, no doubt trying to regain their senses like Rhodey had.

As a few people start climbing shakily to their feet, Rhodey turns to survey his own group. Matt and Damon are already up as well, and when Matt spots him, he climbs carefully over the prone bodies of others to right Rhodey’s wheelchair and then haul him up into it.

“Thanks,” Rhodey pants when he’s done, winded from the pressure of the shockwave and the move up into the chair. He’s pleased that he can hear his own voice pretty much normally.

“No problem. What the hell was that?” Matt asks, and Rhodey shakes his head. He has no idea. Now that he knows he can hear again, he realizes that it’s eerily silent all around. It seems like everyone was knocked out by the mysterious shockwave, and he can’t hear any more ships’ engines. He’s not sure how long they were out for, but he doesn’t think it was long. He wonders if all of the ships crashed, or were destroyed by the force of the shockwave. It seems unlikely that they escaped; who could pilot a ship through that light?

More and more people are picking themselves up now, asking after one another and looking around, stunned by the turn of events. It’s still quiet: the shockwave seems to have silenced the urge to scream and panic, at least for now. For several minutes, Rhodey busies himself with checking on the group, helping to pull people up and exchanging remarks of surprise and wonder about the light.

As people recover, however, they begin moving again. The relative silence of their area is broken when someone comes running in to report that the rest of the ships that were nearby have crashed. This inspires a few cheers and some more movement, as people conclude that they’re free from the guards and start running off, looking for loved ones. Then someone comes sprinting through the street, yelling “Thanos is dead! We’re free!” and all hell breaks loose.

A deafening cheer is echoing through the streets. Some people are dropping to their knees and openly sobbing; others are screaming the names of their friends and family, abandoning the relative safety of the area near their camps and taking off to look for those they’d lost. There are people running in every direction now, paying no mind to others except to push past them. Rhodey tries to move forward, to find someone in his group to talk to or just to get off the road he’s in the middle of, and someone crashes into him from behind. He’s almost thrown from his chair as it tips dangerously. Thankfully, it lands back upright again, and he takes a moment to just sit there and breathe. If he’d fallen, he could have been trampled. Though the mood is joyous rather than terrified, it’s as chaotic as the day they were taken to the camps.

He’s lost sight of most of his group, and he knows he won’t see most of them again. Maybe someday in passing, when the trauma is long behind them, some of them will pass by each other in the streets and recognize one another. Extreme circumstances have a way of bringing people together and forming strong bonds. But in their case, those bonds were forged from their captivity, and that’s over now. He wouldn’t blame a single one of them for never wanting to see him again, no matter what he’s done for them in the last month. Many of them had their own families and friends to look for, and though there was a good chance they wouldn’t find them alive, they still had to look.

Rhodey doesn’t have many people left to look for. When things calm down, he’ll try to contact his mother, of course, but for now, that would be pointless. She lives in Georgia, she’s probably just getting out of her own camp (assuming that this was happening all over the world, he can’t think of why it wouldn’t, but god, the thought of Thanos’s armies just killing everyone in other states is an icy band around his heart), and he doesn’t have any method of transportation.

Tony, Pepper, and Vision are dead. Most of his other friends were in the Air Force, and he knows better than to think any of them are still alive. They’d all been fit and healthy, still active duty, and they would have been called on to fight in the initial invasion. Despite the fact that Thanos and his armies had left the infrastructure mostly intact and rounded up most of the population rather than killing them outright, the one thing they’d decimated without mercy was the world’s militaries. Anyone wearing a uniform or wielding a weapon of any kind was taken out with no hesitation. 

Still, Rhodey is alive, and so are all of the people currently running through the streets. This was what he’d fought for, even though he couldn’t have predicted it, to live to see this. He’ll push through and smile because he’s alive, because the alternative—contemplating how alone he might very well be and a future with no friends or family—would overwhelm him. He’ll find something to focus on, and then something else, and keep going until the inevitable breakdown. Tony didn’t have the monopoly on repression.

Two areas of focus demand his immediate attention. The first is helping to organize this chaos. It would be both harder and easier than it had been in the camps. There were far more people here now, they moved more freely, and there were no guards or terror to keep them relatively subdued. On the other hand, happier people were easier to help and they now had their world back, free reign to go where they needed, get people into shelter and find food and other supplies, and work on getting the city back online.

The second immediate focus is the more difficult, but possibly the more important one. Rhodey needs to find out what the hell happened. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Matt that ridiculous, insane, unpredictable things happen in the world and sometimes they’re good, but he hadn’t really believed they’d be saved, and he was skeptical of anything that seemed too good to be true. That Thanos just dropped dead and the aliens fled seems unlikely. And what had destroyed the portal and the flagship? What was the light wave that had knocked them all out?

Maybe something had gone wrong with the Infinity Stones, some sort of backlash on Thanos. From what he’s heard and seen of the stones, they certainly held the kind of power capable of destroying that portal and creating that shockwave. But this seemed too… controlled for that. Everyone with any personal experience with the stones described them as chaotic, raw, uncontrolled power. It just seems too unlikely that, even in the event of some sort of backlash against Thanos, the stones would have somehow spared the humans, only destroyed the invading armies.

If he wants to find out what happened, he’ll have to start where Thanos died. From what he heard thirdhand from Matt and the others, Thanos’s “throne” had been set up not too far from where Rhodey is now, almost directly underneath the portal, close to the Tower. The witnesses to the actual event might already be scattered, but he has a better chance of finding one there than here.

He’s preparing himself to start wheeling over there—it might take him hours to get there, but hopefully the roads are fairly clear of debris, and after all, he has all the time in the world now—when a hand lands on his shoulder. He looks up to see Rabia and a dozen other people, all loosely holding megaphones and notepads. 

He raises his eyebrows at the efficiency of their organization, but then realizes he has no idea how long he’s been sitting here contemplating his next moves. As he tunes back into his surroundings, he can hear that the noise has changed. It’s still as loud as before, but there are fewer desperate screams and more confused yelling. It reminds him of the crowd exiting the stadium after a football game, except that no one made plans for where to meet and nobody knows how to contact each other. There are too many people in the streets for anyone to hope to find a specific person, and even the most desperate of runners seem to have realized that. 

“This is insane,” Rhodey observes. 

Rabia indicates herself and the others. “We’re going to try to start some kind of system. Create lines, have everyone sign in on a list so we know who’s in the city, send them all somewhere to stay and keep track of it, so people can ask about their friends and family, and know where to find them.”

Rhodey nods. It’s a great idea. Rabia was excellent with organization in the camp, always on top of things, but he’s surprised that she hadn’t gone running off like everyone else. The emotional release of suddenly being free after all that time and the need to finally find out what happened to loved ones are powerful motivators. He realizes that he’d never heard her talk about her family in the camp. She was always so pragmatically focused on the present and the future. 

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t have any family to go running to find?” 

She gives him a half-smile. “My only family is my sister, she lives in France. If I want any hope of contacting her, we need to figure out the phones and the internet here, and hope they do the same there. But we’ve got a lot to do before we get to that. This is my home, my city. I want to help them before I focus on myself.”

Rhodey smiles back. “You’re an amazingly selfless person, Rabia, and the city is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you. Would you like to help? We need to recruit some more people, for various jobs, food, power, injuries, but the first thing we need for the lists is people to run back and forth and tell us which buildings are suitable for people to shelter in for the time. Hotels, offices, things like that.” She indicates the megaphones they’re holding. “We found these, for getting people’s attention and helping to direct them, but we’re going to need everyone we’ve got here to even start making lists of people. We need more help.”

Rhodey nods. “I can do that, once you’ve got them quieted down a bit. Ask anyone who’d like to volunteer to come to me, I can hang out near you guys and assign jobs.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much, for all you’ve done.” Rabia hands him a notebook and pen, which he takes with a smile.

It takes surprisingly little time to get things going, and soon they’re starting to come together into some semblance of organization. By the time Rabia and the megaphone-holders climb up onto abandoned cars and dusty trash bins to start getting people’s attention, people are more than willing to listen. The vast majority of people have figured out that there’s no way they can find their lost friends and family in this chaos without some kind of order, and people tend to listen to a person with a megaphone.

It takes a while to get the lines of people under control and get a system going, but soon they have signups running smoothly. Rhodey takes, records, and gives jobs to new volunteers for over an hour before they finally decide that they’ve got enough people covering the immediately important jobs, and Rabia tells Rhodey to go and search for answers about what happened.

During a break in the initial recording, he’d confessed his worries about how they’d been saved to Rabia, and his desire to go and try to find out for himself. She’d agreed with his assessment. They’d tried to see if there was any useful information among all of the people now being recorded, but they weren’t getting much. Within minutes of the news of Thanos’s death, there were already at least two dozen different rumors circulating about how it had happened, everything from some cosmic event to an alien heart attack to the Avengers coming back to life and killing him. Some people were very insistent about their version of events, but so far, none of them seemed to be actual witnesses to it, and so Rhodey had told Rabia that he wanted to go and check it out for himself.

Now, Rabia hands him an extra water bottle from the supply someone had brought out, bends down to hug him and thank him again for everything, and tells him to go and find out what happened. He returns the hug and the thanks warmly, aware that in the chaos of organizing everything, and with the size of the city, this might be the last time he ever sees her.

He begins wheeling away, moving with the crowds up towards where he knows Thanos’s throne was. The people are heading to their assigned shelters, but Rhodey’s plan is to go and try to find answers about their sudden freedom, then pick a shelter of his own nearby at random. Rabia has his name on one of her lists, but there’s no need to confirm where he’s staying. No one will be looking for him.

He stops two intersections over to help instruct some people on where to go. The news is spreading about their attempts at organization—the runners Rhodey had recruited to go and direct people to Rabia helped significantly with that—but there are still people pouring in from every direction. He’s sure similar organizational efforts are being made in other parts of the city, but the challenge of integrating all of them could be dealt with later. For now, as long as they got everyone’s name down somewhere and found shelter, food, and water for everyone, they’d be okay for at least a day or two. Having some kind of direction helped calm people down too, even those who were desperate to find their loved ones.

Rhodey takes a short break to drink some of his water, eat one of the packets of crackers he’d been given before leaving. He observes the more controlled crowd now, as people walk by instead of running and talk instead of shouting. Though some of them are undoubtedly haunted by death and destruction and other horrors, every face he sees shows relief.

He’s been sitting there a few minutes when he becomes acutely aware that the noise has died down on one side of him. For a second he thinks he’s having a sudden problem hearing out of that ear. But when he turns to that side, the silence is now in front of him. He can still hear the chattering of the crowds behind him, but a hush is falling over the people in front of him unnaturally fast. 

Those he can see have stopped in their tracks. Some are looking around for the reason for the silence, falling quiet themselves as they try to figure out what’s happened. Whatever the cause is, it seems to be moving towards where Rhodey is sitting, because the eerie silence is moving past him, starting to affect the people immediately behind him as well. The people in front of him all seem to be turned inward, facing something that’s caught their attention. It’s apparently directly in Rhodey’s path, but he can’t see what it is, stuck in the chair and behind a dense crowd of people.

Very suddenly, there’s movement in front of him. The crowd in his view seems to melt away, people moving seamlessly back and out of the way of whatever it is that’s attracting their attention, creating a path for it; a path Rhodey is directly in the middle of. He’s preparing himself to move out of the way as well when he catches sight of it. At first, all he interprets is a bright blue glow in a vaguely human shape, but as it moves towards him and his eyes take in more details, it solidifies into something very familiar, and his breath stops in his chest.

Tony.


	8. Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter and this one are short, so here they are back to back! Next one should be long again.

Rhodey is dead. 

Dead or dreaming, or some combination of both, maybe he’s dying and this is the last hallucination his brain is coming up with to ease him into oblivion. That’s the only explanation for this. Maybe he’s dead and this is Heaven. Rhodey’s never been very religious, not like his mother, but he still remembers some things from church as a kid. Maybe he died during Thanos’s attack, or at the airport, and the last month was actually Purgatory. His soul was being purified through hardship, and now he was moving on to Heaven, greeted by Tony at its gates.

Except he doesn’t actually believe in any of that, and he’s still hungry and tired and in pain. He knows this is reality, he’s just having a hard time processing it.

Tony walks toward him, and Rhodey takes him in. The light around him seems to be coming from within him, shining out through the marks on his skin. The bright lines are scrawled across every inch of him that Rhodey can see, as though the blood in his veins has turned to light and is glowing through his skin. His eyes are glowing as brightly as the rest of him. He’s barefoot, and looks to be wrapped in a blanket and nothing more.

It might be difficult for some people, but Rhodey has no trouble telling that this is Tony. The obvious changes are startling, sure, but those are just on the surface. His shape, the way he holds himself, hell, even his gait, those are all familiar to Rhodey.

Except Tony’s dead. Rhodey was there when Vision brought back his body. He can’t possibly be here now, even looking different like this, alien involvement or not. This is a hallucination, maybe induced by hunger or lack of sleep. But even as he thinks it, he’s aware of his complete memory, his sharp senses, everything that’s telling him that this is all real.

Maybe this is one of those incredible, ridiculous, amazing things, maybe everything about Tony seems familiar, but some part of Rhodey just can’t accept it, can’t believe it. He thinks it’s the part of him that wouldn’t think about Tony’s death, the part that’s trying to save him from irrevocable hurt. As much as most of him wants to throw himself at Tony, to rejoice that his best friend is somehow alive, that small, protective part of him knows that if he does that, only to find out that this isn’t really Tony, he won’t be able to recover. He’s been through too much for that kind of blow not to ruin him now.

Still, he can’t stop the tears from forming as he watches Tony walk towards him. He’s speechless, and the crowd is silent as well. It feels like the world is holding still as Tony approaches him.

Tony stops just out of reach of Rhodey. They spend a long moment just looking at each other. Rhodey takes in the familiar face, with new marks and glowing blue eyes, yes, but still the same face he knows, down to the last line. Tony’s expression is complicated. Rhodey thinks part of it is confusion, but he couldn’t say what about; maybe the circumstances, the environment, Rhodey himself. Maybe something in him recognizes Rhodey, but he isn’t quite aware enough to know who he is. Rhodey could speculate a million different ways. Tony also looks… sad, unbearably sad, and that’s an expression Rhodey doesn’t have trouble deciphering on Tony’s face. But this, this is beyond even what he’s seen in Tony before. It’s somehow beyond description, and it hurts Rhodey to see.

Their moment of still contemplation ends when Tony shifts again. He slowly moves to kneel in front of Rhodey, now looking up at him instead of down. Time seems to slow down as Tony reaches a hand out and opens his mouth. 

“Rhodey.”

It’s the only thing he says, but it’s the breaking point for Rhodey. Whatever reservations he’d still held are shattered. He’s not even sure he could pinpoint exactly what it is; the voice, the tone, or something else, but he’s absolutely positive. This is Tony, his Tony, without a doubt. He manages to croak out a weak, hoarse “Tony” in return, and the tears welling in his eyes finally fall as he reaches out to take Tony’s outstretched hand.

The moment he makes contact with Tony, it’s like something lifts in him. The trauma of the last month doesn’t seem as immediate, as crushing. He doesn’t feel so hungry or tired anymore, and he barely feels the pain. None of that matters in the face of having Tony here again.

He pulls the slightest bit on Tony’s hand, and Tony obligingly moves closer so that Rhodey can lean forward and pull him into a tight hug. Tony is warm, and almost lax in Rhodey’s grip, as though he doesn’t know what’s happening or how to respond to the hug. But he leans his head into Rhodey’s shoulder and seems content to stay there, and Rhodey spends a long minute just holding onto him and feeling him breathe, letting his world narrow down to just the sound and the feeling of it. 

It’s surreal, for reasons beyond the obvious. In the space of a few minutes, Rhodey’s gone from avoiding thinking about his lack of a future to holding someone important to him and to the world, his own family that he thought he’d lost forever. He’s gone from being one of the people who’d lost everything to one of the lucky few who’s found the person he’d lost. His mind still hasn’t entirely caught up, and might not for a while. He knows without having to think about it that Tony is the one who killed Thanos and saved all of them. He’s been resurrected and obviously been changed in serious ways, he’s powerful and glowing and who knows what else. But here, in Rhodey’s arms again, he’s just Tony, the same kid from MIT turned world-weary man that Rhodey’s known and loved for years. The dichotomy might be difficult to reconcile, but he’ll do it. For Tony, he’ll do almost anything. He’d lost Tony once and been unable to do anything about it; he won’t ever take Tony’s presence in his life for granted again.

Finally, he pulls Tony back, scrubs briefly at his own tears to clear his vision, and pulls in a deep, hitching breath to calm himself. His eyes meet Tony’s, and he still sees that horribly sad look, with a hint of confusion. Despite the color change and the glow to them, he still recognizes his friend in there—a little lost, maybe, but there. He looks Tony up and down, and finally has to ask.

“Tony.” He nearly chokes on the word, emotion clogging his throat at the fact that he’d never thought he would speak that name to its owner again. He pushes it down to ask the important question. “What happened?”

It’s general and vague, partly on purpose. Though he’s really asking about Thanos and how Tony was resurrected, Tony can answer it any way he wants. But Tony’s face scrunches up, the sad expression still present but now hidden behind deep confusion. “I don’t know,” he finally says. His eyebrows draw down like he’s unhappy with the admission.

Rhodey puts one hand on Tony’s shoulder and brushes the other through his hair in what he hopes is a familiar, comforting gesture. “Okay,” he says, trying to sound soothing, to assure Tony that he doesn’t need an answer right now, it’s okay that Tony isn’t sure. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” He gives Tony a teary smile, and Tony looks up at him, still just looking lost.

Rhodey takes in more of him then, the lines on his face and the tired slump of his shoulders, the drooping of his eyes. He looks exhausted, and just as Rhodey opens his mouth to comment on it, he sways slightly where he’s kneeling, and his eyes seem to go unfocused. Rhodey needs to get him out of here, somewhere where he can rest and figure everything out.

He looks up and is almost startled by the silent, watchful crowd. In the emotional storm of seeing Tony again and realizing that he’s real, he’d almost forgotten that they were in the middle of the street, surrounded on all sides by observers. The people look at Tony, and now Rhodey as well, with respect and awe, and all Rhodey can think is that he’s grateful that they’ll surely be willing to help.

He looks around at the crowd. “Do you know the nearest working shelter?” he asks. Some of them look startled, like they’d been so caught up in watching the scene between Rhodey and Tony that they’d forgotten they were actually standing there.

A few people nod. “There’s an office building just down the road they’re using,” a woman says, pointing down the street to their left.

Rhodey nods and opens his mouth to thank her, but a man standing next to her shakes his head. “Fancy hotel not far past that is taking people in,” he says. He looks at Rhodey when he says it, but then his eyes shift back to Tony. There’s something shocked and reverent in his expression. “You… you should stay somewhere comfortable.”

There are murmurs of agreement among the crowd, and Rhodey can’t bring himself to disagree. If it were him alone, he’d never bypass a close shelter for something more luxurious, but he wants Tony somewhere comfortable, relaxing, private. Whatever they’ve all been through in the last month, it can’t be anything compared to whatever has happened to Tony. After all of that, after being resurrected and saving them all, Tony deserves to be able to lie down in a real bed, at the very least.

So Rhodey nods and thanks them, and then focuses back in on Tony. Tony’s eyes are tired, unfocused, staring vaguely in the direction of Rhodey’s legs. He doesn’t look like he was listening to the conversation. Rhodey puts a hand back on his upper arm and leans in. “Hey,” he says, and Tony’s gaze moves to him, exhausted but questioning. He puts the slightest bit of pressure on Tony’s arm, pulling upwards. “You think you can walk with me?”

Tony seems to contemplate that for a long moment before nodding and climbing to his feet. He moves gracefully, his glowing patterns seeming to shift as he moves around. It’s an almost ethereal sight, and Rhodey can see why the crowds part for Tony, give him room to walk wherever he pleases, stand silent and reverent as he passes. It’s not just that he saved them all, it’s the way he moves, the aura around him, like he’s simultaneously a god among men and made of glass that might shatter the moment someone touches him.

He wants to reach for Tony’s hand, but he needs both arms to roll his chair down the uneven street. He starts moving a bit and looks back, worried that Tony is too tired or unsure or confused to follow him, but there’s no cause for hesitation. Tony follows Rhodey instantly, and when Rhodey turns again and begins moving down the street at a reasonable pace, Tony falls into step beside him.

The journey is silent, contemplative. He has no idea what Tony might be thinking about, but he has a million thoughts running through his own mind, mostly to do with Tony. He wants to get Tony somewhere private, quiet, and comfortable, but he’s not entirely sure what he’ll do once he gets there. He wants to just let Tony get some rest, but there’s things they have to talk about. He needs to know more about Tony’s power, how he defeated Thanos and whether it’s something to be concerned about for Tony’s sake (or the sake of bystanders, but Christ, Rhodey can’t think about that conversation, about what he’ll do if it turns out Tony is some sort of a ticking bomb that might go off any moment and vaporize the city). But if Tony can’t or doesn’t want to talk about it, Rhodey doesn’t want to push him.

He’ll have to figure things out as he learns them, just take it one problem at a time. He doesn’t know what happened and can’t possibly imagine it, so he pushes away that train of thought for the rest of the journey to the hotel. They’ll deal with whatever comes up. What Rhodey really wants—what he needs—is to settle Tony in somewhere safe, and to get some food, water, and rest himself. However much adrenaline is flowing through him now, whatever great feelings the reunion with Tony brought out in him, there’s no denying that he’s also exhausted. If he doesn’t get settled with Tony soon, he’ll collapse, and he can’t do that while Tony isn’t safe. He won’t leave him alone.

When they get to the hotel, there’s an orderly line of people out the door, waiting to go in and be helped. They part like water for Tony and Rhodey, as quietly awed as everyone else has been so far. Rhodey feels a slight stab of guilt for getting ahead of so many people, just going in rather than waiting like everyone else, but it’s overshadowed by his concern for Tony. Despite his exhaustion, Tony is looking around, taking in his surroundings, though he still follows Rhodey unerringly wherever he goes.

They get inside the lobby, which is opulently decorated. This is a high-end hotel. The organizers inside have gotten a good system going. It’s almost like seeing a normal hotel working, except that the workers aren’t wearing any kind of uniform and the patrons all look a bit haggard and dirty for this class of hotel. Where the line is coming in, names are being recorded again, both for their own records and to compare later to the lists made outside, to make sure no one got lost in transit to their assigned shelter. As people are recorded, they’re put into groups of five or ten and given keycards to rooms. Some small groups are together, people who’ve already found each other or maybe who were together in the camps, but it’s mostly strangers being assigned to the same rooms. Until everything settles down more and they have records of everyone, they’ll need to share and conserve space. Before they move to their rooms, they pass by a station where people are handing out supplies, mostly extra food and water, but also small toiletries from large boxes of complimentary hotel items.

The same hush that’s followed them everywhere so far falls in the lobby, and it becomes nearly silent as most people turn to watch them pass. As soon as they cross the threshold, people are moving back and away from the desk, giving them room to go up to it. Rhodey once again feels like he’s taking advantage of their willingness to help Tony, but he doesn’t get the chance to insist that anyone who was already at the desk is served before them.

The man assigning rooms gapes at the sight of them for a moment, then bends down and clicks quickly at the hotel computer he’s using. In the back of Rhodey’s mind, he registers that they’re using the hotel’s electronic systems and starts wondering about whether cell phone signals and the internet are working again, but that’s something to be dealt with later. He’s still focused on just getting them somewhere safe.

The man quickly codes a card and walks solemnly over to them, gesturing towards the end of the lobby, near the elevators. Rhodey wheels over and Tony follows him. They stop in the space between all the elevators, where there’s relatively more privacy than out in the middle of the lobby. He hands the card to Rhodey. “Top floor, room 14. We’ll keep the rest of the floor clear. Power’s still on to this block and we’ve got generators too, so you’ll be fine on the elevators and everything should work in the room. We’ll send someone up in a minute with some supplies for you.”

Rhodey takes the card, but frowns. “You don’t have to do that. We can share the floor.”

The man gives him and Tony a small smile. “People will be knocking on your door all night if we do that. It’s really no trouble, there’s a lot of room here, and we’re not the only working building in the area.”

Rhodey knows arguing with him will just be pointless and seem ungrateful, and he does have a point. He wanted Tony somewhere restful, and it’s being offered. So he just smiles, thanks the man, and hits the button for the elevator. When they get on the elevator, he turns and looks fully at Tony again, for the first time since they’d started walking to the hotel. He’s sagging even more now, hunching in on himself like just the weight of his body is too much to bear. It would be alarming if Rhodey hadn’t seen the exact look on Tony plenty of times before, after three-day engineering binges and PTSD-riddled sleepless nights. It’s still worrying, but isn’t some alien problem that Rhodey has no idea how to even begin to deal with. It’s just Tony.

The room, when they get inside, is gorgeous. After calling his makeshift corner “nest” of extra sweaters on a dirty floor home for the last month, seeing the pristinely clean room, with all its extra space and crisp, expensive furniture, is odd. It’s like he’s experiencing these things for the first time, instead of just having taken a month-long break from being around a billionaire who lived like this all the time.

The room is actually a suite, spacious and beautiful. They’ve walked into a sitting room, off of which there’s a kitchenette. An enormous television adorns one wall, and there’s tasteful artwork scattered on the rest. Plenty of places to sit, and no awkward steps for Rhodey to try to traverse in his wheelchair. He moves into the bedroom, Tony trailing after him. There’s another tv in here, an open door showing a peek into a magnificent bathroom, and floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall revealing a spectacular view of the city below, but Rhodey barely notices any of it. His attention is occupied by the king-sized bed, sitting there and looking almost indecent in its luxurious comfort. In his military career, Rhodey’s spent long periods of time away from any of the comforts of home. He’s developed the ability to sleep almost anywhere, and he was never very picky about it. It was always nice to return home and get to sleep in his own bed, but he didn’t spend his time away dreaming of it or anything. But now, after the perpetual stress of the last month, with Tony miraculously by his side again, the bed in front of him, the first he’s seen in a month, looks like salvation. He wants nothing more than to climb into it and sleep for a month.

He isn’t quite sure what Tony’s resurrection and changes will mean for his ability to sleep, but as exhausted as he looks, Rhodey can’t imagine he won’t want to at least lie down and try to relax. Rhodey turns to ask what he thinks of the room, maybe try to coax him into the bathroom to get cleaned up for bed, but stops when he sees him. Tony’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s leaning back against the wall next to the bedroom doorway. The slump to his shoulders is more pronounced than ever. Before Rhodey can say anything, Tony closes his eyes and slides down the wall to the floor.


	9. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, this actually didn’t end up being as long a chapter as I thought. Oops.
> 
> Just a note, I was originally unsure whether I wanted this to turn into a Rhodey/Tony story or not, but with everything happening with Tony emotionally, I decided to just keep it gen. I want to write some Tony/Rhodey stuff in the future, because it’s a wonderful and underwritten pairing, but for this story, everything between them is meant to just be platonic, though still a very close and intimate friendship. (Though if you want to read it as sort of low-key Rhodey/Tony, go ahead :) )

The way Tony slides to the floor is the least graceful Rhodey’s seen him yet. He wheels over to Tony’s side and reaches down to grab his shoulder, trying to get a better look at his face. Tony’s head has fallen to his knees, but at Rhodey’s touch, he raises it again and pries his eyes open. Tony’s expression still just looks sad and slightly confused, and it’s hard to tell whether this collapse is simply because he’s exhausted, or something more. “Hey,” Rhodey says softly, “what’s wrong?”

Tony opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a moment. Rhodey waits patiently for him to work out whatever he needs to; he can’t imagine what kind of things Tony’s having to work through right now. Eventually, Tony takes a breath and speaks. “I’m…” he says, and then pauses again. His face moves through a variety of unhappy expressions and his jaw twitches a few times as though he’s trying to speak but can’t. Just as Rhodey is thinking he won’t say anything else, he finishes with “…tired.”

Tired doesn’t even begin to cover it, Rhodey thinks. Between being killed and resurrected, whatever happened with Thanos, and apparently walking several miles to find Rhodey after it was over, he must be beyond tired, physically and emotionally. The sad expression is more intense than before now. He looks like he wants to cry, but Rhodey’s not even sure if he can.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, rubbing his shoulder lightly. “We can do something about that. You think you can get up on the bed?” He’s hoping Tony at least has that much energy left in him. Rhodey can’t lift him like he used to be able to, can’t do much to help him physically. Tony’s gaze slowly moves up to Rhodey’s face, and he blinks like he’s processing the words. Then, slowly, he nods and climbs to his feet. He looks steady, thankfully, though Rhodey still holds a hand out next to him, ready to at least try to catch him if he starts to sway.

But Tony moves over to the bed and sinks onto it with no problem. He sits at the edge, facing Rhodey. “You want to lie down?” Rhodey asks, but Tony shakes his head slowly. His expression says he’s not really sure what he wants to do, and he looks at Rhodey like Rhodey has all the answers for him. Maybe it should be a lot of pressure, but this is familiar to Rhodey and something in him softens at the sight. Rich and independent genius though he is, Tony has always looked up to Rhodey, and Rhodey’s played the role of older brother more times than he can count. Even if Tony doesn’t always listen to him, he still feels a kind of comfort in taking care of him.

Now that they’re away from the street and prying eyes and Tony seems focused on him and reluctant to try to sleep yet, Rhodey feels comfortable enough asking again. “What happened, Tony?”

Tony’s mouth pulls down in a frown again, but he looks like he’s thinking, parsing things out. “I… remember dying,” is what he leads with, and Jesus, Rhodey thinks, this conversation is already awful. “And then… nothing, until I was just… there again, but not just me.”

There’s a long pause. Tony might be remembering it, and Rhodey doesn’t want to push. He’ll talk as he’s ready. “The Infinity Stones,” Tony finally says, “they were… part of me. Thanos used them to bring me back, and I was linked to their power.” He’s speaking slowly, hesitating every few words, but gaining confidence as he talks. “I could feel Thanos through them. It’s like we were both linked through them, but… Thanos wasn’t in control, not really. The stones are so much more powerful than him. He was using their power, but he was enslaved to them. With the connection, I was able to follow it back and take control myself. He’d used so much power to bring me back that I had a stronger connection to them than him. I took them for myself and I killed him.”

He still looks devastated, and Rhodey hopes it isn’t at the thought of killing Thanos. Thanos needed to die, deserved it more than anyone, and Tony had done it for the Earth, for everyone’s survival. He’s thinking about saying something to that effect, but a sudden thought distracts him. All of the destruction Thanos had caused, he’d done it all with the stones. “You have control of the stones… their power, could it be used to fix any of this?” he starts, but before he even finishes speaking, Tony is shaking his head.

“They’re gone. I destroyed them. Their power… it was so strong, the way it took Thanos over and he didn’t even know it. I’m not any stronger than he was. If I’d held them for any longer they’d have done the same to me. Even though my connection to the stones was stronger than Thanos’s, they hadn’t had long enough to corrupt me. I was independent enough to recognize that they only… they only cause destruction. I wasn’t—I’m not strong enough to control them, not for long. They’re conscious, in a way, and all they want is chaos. I destroyed the portal, and one of the ships, I think?” Rhodey nods, remembering the enormous flagship cracking in half. “And even that was pushing it. They were trying to take me over too. I had just enough control left to turn their power against each other and destroy them. I had to.”

He sounds almost pleading by the end, like he thinks he has to justify it to Rhodey. Rhodey reaches out and takes his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Tony. That’s good. I’m glad you could destroy them. They were dangerous and you saved us all doing it. That was the best possible outcome.” Tony just blinks at him, so Rhodey continues. “Was that all of them?”

Tony shakes his head. “No. Thanos had all but one, the Time Stone. He was searching for it.”

“It’s here?”

“Yeah. When I was connected to the stones, I could just barely feel it, somewhere on the planet. That’s why Thanos was here the entire time, and delaying for so long. If he’d had them all, he would have just destroyed the planet. But he didn’t know where it was, and he couldn’t risk it being lost. If they gathered all the people and funneled them through checkpoints, they could look for it.”

Before Rhodey can ask anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Tony’s staring into space again, probably thinking about Thanos and the Infinity Stones. Rhodey doesn’t want to try to get him up, so he rolls over to the door himself and opens it. A man is standing there, holding a large box. Right, the man at the desk said they’d send someone up with supplies for them. Rhodey moves back to let him in the room, and he steps inside to set the box on the floor. Rhodey sees his eyes scan the sitting room for Tony, but he doesn’t look for long, and quickly turns his full attention to Rhodey.

“Thanks,” Rhodey says, holding a hand out.

The man grasps it firmly. “There’s extra clothes in there, a few sizes in case we got it wrong. Some more food and water for you, towels, soap and stuff for showering, toothbrushes and toothpaste, things like that. Please let us know if there’s anything else we can get you, anything. The phone in the room should work if you need to call down to the desk.”

Rhodey nods. “You know if the internet and cell phones are back up? I would think whatever they had jamming them should be gone.”

The man nods. “Yeah, there’s problems obviously with so many people trying to use their phones at once, and internet service is clogged up and slow as hell, but they’re technically working. People are already talking about trying to fix it up, organize a system or something so that we can actually get it to work. Internet would be great for finding lost people but right now nothing’s working fast enough to be of any help.”

Rhodey nods. That isn’t surprising. “Any chance someone could get me a phone or a laptop? Lost mine during the invasion.” He feels a little bad for asking, but he’s planning to help in the restoration efforts once he’s got things with Tony figured out and gotten some rest, and he’ll need the connection. Paralyzed or not, he was an Avenger (still is, really, even though it’s just him and Tony now, and maybe not even Tony), and he’s going to be needed in the coming days.

“Of course, we’ll find you something right away.”

“Thanks.” Rhodey grimaces a little. “Also, uh, I hate to ask you to bother someone, but you think you can find somebody to send up for a few minutes? I’m going to need some help, with—” he cuts off, but gestures to his chair and the man gets it immediately, nodding seriously. 

“Yeah, of course, no problem. Is there—anything else you need?” 

Rhodey shakes his head and thanks the man again. The man offers more thanks in return and leaves, promising to have someone sent up soon to help Rhodey out. Rhodey takes a moment to dig through the box, looking at what they’ve got, then puts it in his lap and wheels back into the bedroom.

Tony’s sitting exactly where he left him, still staring into the distance, but his eyes move to Rhodey when he comes back in the room. Rhodey sets the box down next to the bed and puts a hand on Tony’s knee. “Hey, you want to try going to sleep now?”

Tony frowns like he’s puzzling over that. Eventually, he nods hesitantly, and Rhodey reaches down for the box. He and Tony are slightly different in size, but they’ve always shared clothes with little problem—Tony stealing his, mostly, but Rhodey’s never minded—and it looks like whoever put the box together did a good job of sizing them. He pulls out a soft t-shirt and loose pants and manages to coax Tony into them, draping the blanket Tony had wrapped around his shoulders over the end of the bed. Tony’s markings shine through the shirt just the tiniest bit where it lays flat against his skin. He seems pretty clean overall despite his fight with Thanos and journey through the streets, and with how tired he looks, Rhodey doesn’t want to bother trying to get him into the shower.

Rhodey exchanges his own shirt for one in the box; he’d been switching back and forth between two shirts in the camps, but no one had wasted precious soap on cleaning clothes, and both were pretty disgusting by the end of the month. He pulls out some clean pants as well and puts them in the pack on the back of his chair, where he’s been keeping his own personal items, just as there’s another tentative knock on the door.

This time it’s the promised aide, a kind-faced woman in her late fifties who introduces herself as Karen. She’s carrying both a phone and a tablet for Rhodey, which she sets on the table in the sitting room. They move through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Tony, still sitting silently on the bed, watches them go with furrowed brows. Karen gives him one awed glance, but focuses back in on Rhodey quickly. “Be right back,” Rhodey tells Tony before he follows her into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Karen is quick and professional about helping Rhodey clean up. Actually showering would be an ordeal, but she helps to give him a makeshift sponge bath and to change into the pants he’s brought. After a trip to the toilet made even faster by her help, she tells him her room number and makes him promise to call down there for her when he needs more assistance. She leaves, sneaking one more quick look at Tony. Tony watches her progress with a frown, then turns to Rhodey once she’s left the room. 

“I could have done that,” he says quietly, and something in Rhodey’s heart leaps at the thought that even with whatever’s going on with him, Tony wants to help. 

Rhodey gives him a soft, fond smile and pats his arm, then reaches down to pull the bed covers back a bit, smoothing a hand over the sheets underneath. “You’re way too tired, Tony, it’s fine. Now why don’t you come lay down here, and we can try to get some sleep, huh?”

Tony nods and slowly scoots over to where Rhodey’s pulled the covers back, slipping beneath them, but still sitting upright to look at Rhodey. Rhodey moves around the suite, turning off the lights and pulling the curtains closed over the expansive windows, and from the bed, Tony tracks his movements. He looks down before pulling the curtains shut all the way and sees that the line into the hotel and the crowds in the streets have mostly disappeared; people have been efficiently moved into shelters for the night. It’s been a long day, a lot happening, and dusk is starting to fall, comfortably darkening the room. Still, Rhodey pulls the blackout curtains. They could easily sleep well into tomorrow and he wants to let that happen, not be woken up by bright daylight.

There’s just one lamp still lighting the room that Rhodey can turn off from the bed, so he makes his way over to the side opposite Tony and hauls himself out of the chair and into the bed. It’s as soft and relaxing as he’d been imagining, and he lets out a happy sigh as he sinks into it. After arranging his uncooperative legs under the covers, he finally reaches to turn off the last light.

As soon as the light is out, the whole room is softly lit by Tony’s glow, even though just his arms and face are exposed now. Rhodey looks over at him. He looks even more ethereal and celestial in the darkened room, between his glowing eyes and the patterns across his face and arms and showing through his shirt. Bright as he is, his glow is still gentle in a way, and Rhodey knows it won’t keep him from sleeping.

Rhodey settles down in the bed facing Tony and Tony finally lies down, mirroring Rhodey on the other side. There’s something turbulent in his eyes and Rhodey’s worried whatever’s bothering him will keep him from sleeping. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

Tony pulls in a deep breath and Rhodey suddenly gets the feeling that he’s opened a floodgate. “I’m only—” Tony whispers, stops to breathe, and continues in a soft voice. “I only feel two things, Rhodey. Sadness, and grief. That’s all. That’s all I’ve felt since I was—back.” 

Rhodey sucks in a sharp breath. That would certainly explain the constant, unbearably sad look in his eyes, the slump to him that seems like more than just exhaustion, why he doesn’t seem to talk more than necessary. Rhodey just looks at him, not sure what to say. He has no idea what this means, how to fix it, or even how it happened.

Tony continues, sparing him from having to come up with something to say for the moment. “That’s what went wrong with Thanos,” he says, shutting his eyes for a second. “Thanos used the power of Infinity Stones to resurrect me, using the emotions I felt at the moment I died as a basis for it. He wanted to punish the Avengers and the world, he wanted a puppet he could use to hurt them, to kill them. But he got it wrong. He thought it would be anger. That’s easy to control, for him and the stones, because anger is chaotic and undirected and easy to manipulate.”

“But you weren’t angry,” Rhodey whispers.

“No. I was sad, I was grieving, horribly. For my parents, for the friendship I thought I had with Steve, for being betrayed like that. Even when he was about to kill me, I was just… sad.” Rhodey feels a spark of helpless rage himself at the words, knowing that Tony died grieving, that even as he was murdered by a supposed friend, he wasn’t angry but sad. A moment later it’s overcome by confusion, as he registers the mention of Tony’s parents. What did they have to do with Rogers? But Tony continues before he can ask, or follow that train of thought further.

“Grief is a much more powerful and complex emotion than anger. It depends on positive emotion to exist; you have to have loved someone or something to grieve for its loss. That was more than Thanos was prepared for when he used to stones to fuel my resurrection. It drew more power from them than he was expecting, and it severed his direct control over me. It gave me enough power to think independently, a sort of protective power of my own, even from the stones themselves, even though it had come from them. That’s what let me take control and keep it long enough to kill Thanos and destroy the stones.”

“God,” Rhodey breathes, reaching to take Tony’s hand across the bed. He’s overwhelmed for a minute by the thought of how much random luck was necessary for this to happen, how many ways it could have gone wrong. The thought of Tony as some sort of puppet of Thanos used to kill his enemies is enough to make him feel sick. He’s so grateful to have Tony here, whatever that means, that he might burst with the feeling. But he aches for Tony. He doesn’t know what to do about this, how to console him or help him.

Tony’s breath hitches. “I only feel sad, nothing else. I don’t know if I can ever feel anything else again. If I’m stuck like this forever, what does that make me?”

His eyes are imploring, his expression devastated, and for a moment Rhodey is lost, overcome by this responsibility. He truly has no idea what to say to Tony. He would never want to condemn Tony to a life of feeling nothing but sadness, but if Tony doesn’t know whether things will ever change, Rhodey certainly can’t know. He won’t make empty promises, but he doesn’t want to seem hopeless. Whatever the problems that have come along with it, he has Tony back now, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. But he doesn’t have the perfect phrase to say here, or even an imperfect one. He’s at a loss.

He squeezes Tony’s hand, trying to come up with something to say, when a thought hits him that could change everything. “Tony,” he says, propping himself up on an elbow to look Tony fully in the face. “how did you find me?”

Tony looks confused for a moment at the change of subject, but he answers nonetheless. “When I was in control of the stones, I could feel… a lot. I had memories of you, of others too, but you were the first person I thought of. I knew you were still alive, and the stones let me see where you were, sort of. Once I destroyed them, I just kind of… headed in that direction. I was moving on instinct, not really looking, but I guess I went right to you.”

The spark in Rhodey’s chest grows, igniting hope in him. He’s pleased that Tony thought of him, of course, but it’s more than that. This could be his answer for Tony. “ _Why_ did you come to me?” he asks, leaning down and further into Tony’s space.

Tony looks at him for a long moment, contemplating, before answering. “I don’t feel anything, but I can still remember it. It’s… disconnected, like I’m watching someone else’s life, but I still have the memories.” He pauses, thinking again, and then his mouth opens a little, like he’s figured out Rhodey’s point. “I came to you because you’re… safe. I remember that, at least. I—when I look at you now, I don’t _feel_ anything, but I remember feeling. I remember you.”

His hand tightens around Rhodey’s and he raises his head more to look Rhodey straight in the eyes, expression still sad but blazing and intense. “I came to you because I know you love me… and even though I don’t feel it now, I know I love you too.”

Rhodey’s vision blurs with tears, and he leans down to pull Tony into another tight hug. This time, though Tony relaxes in his arms, he wraps his own arms around Rhodey and returns the hug. Once again, Rhodey spends a long minute just holding Tony, soaking in his warmth and letting a few grateful tears fall. “Don’t you ever doubt it,” he whispers fiercely into Tony’s shoulder.

Eventually, he sinks back into the bed fully, pulling Tony with him and shifting his upper body around as best he can to get comfortable. He ends up on his back with Tony on his side and curled around him, head resting on his shoulder and arm across his chest, hand loosely gripping Rhodey’s shirt. Rhodey moves the arm that’s resting around Tony’s shoulders up into his hair, threading through it, and uses it to tilt Tony’s head up to look at him. “If you can remember that, Tony, then you can get it back, all those feelings. You remember them and that’s all that matters. We’ll figure everything else out, alright? I promise, we’ll deal with all of it. No matter what.” 

Tony nods and closes his eyes, settling down against Rhodey. Rhodey turns his face into Tony’s hair, breathing in the clean, soft scent of him. He lets one arm fall around Tony’s waist and the other come up to lightly rest on Tony’s arm, and finally, safely intertwined, they sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean to get super cliché with the whole “power of love” stuff about how Tony defeated Thanos, it just sort of happened.


	10. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, so sorry for the long wait for this chapter, got things going on and then I wrote a few chapters for Facing Reality because that had gone a while without an update. But at least I didn’t leave you all on a cliffhanger or anything :)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your interest in this story! For something that came from a random few thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone, it’s now turned into a major project with all the chapters planned out. I know it’s a bit of an odd concept, so I’m glad to see so many people interested in it.

When Rhodey wakes up, he makes it halfway through his daily mental checklist of tasks and people to look out for before his half-asleep brain registers that something’s different. He’s lying on something ridiculously soft and comfortable, nothing like the hard floor with a couple extra jackets as bedding that he’s been using for the past month. His arms are wrapped around something large and warm that he registers as a body, even though he always sleeps alone in the camp. Higher thought processes haven’t quite returned yet, and he spends a minute just basking in the relaxing feeling, enjoying the moment before he has to wake up fully and face another harrowing day.

He turns his face further into the person next to him and is met with a familiar scent, and all at once, the previous day comes flooding back. He barely manages not to bolt upright and disturb Tony, but he can’t keep from instinctively tightening his arms just a bit or pulling in a sharp breath at the memory of yesterday and the realization that all of it really happened, it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. 

His eyes snap open and he’s met with the bright light of Tony next to him, sleeping peacefully and still pressed into Rhodey’s side, though his head has moved up to the pillows rather than remaining on Rhodey’s shoulder and the grip he had on Rhodey’s shirt when they went to sleep has fallen away. His face has smoothed out in sleep, the devastated expression no longer present, and Rhodey hopes it means he’s not having any sort of nightmares. He’s under no delusions that Tony will wake up suddenly cured of his traumatic experiences and his strange emotional deficit, but for now, at least, Rhodey hopes he’s at peace.

As his eyes adjust beyond Tony, he sees the shapes of the walls and other furniture in the room, dimly lit by Tony’s glow. He’s not sure what time it is—the only clock on the bedside table had been blinking and hours off of the real time from multiple power outages, and he’d just unplugged it before going to bed—but he can see strips of bright sunlight peeking around the edges of the curtains. With how exhausted he’d been, it could easily be the afternoon already.

He prepares himself to get up and contemplates waking Tony as well, but decides against it after a short internal debate. Being resurrected, fighting Thanos, taking control of and destroying the Infinity Stones, and finding his way to Rhodey must have taken more out of him than Rhodey can even imagine, and since his sleep seems to be peaceful, Rhodey decides to leave him to it for at least a little longer. 

He gently levers himself upright, sliding away from Tony, who sleeps on without reacting to the movement. Rhodey pauses for a moment to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, then carefully maneuvers himself into his chair. He digs quietly through the box of supplies from last night and finds himself some fresh clothes for the day, then wheels out into the sitting room. He checks the phone he was given last night and sees that it’s just before noon—so he hadn’t slept quite as long as he’d feared, there was still plenty of time left in the day to get downstairs and look into helping with whatever he can.

He finds a hotel phone in the entryway and follows the instructions to call the room number Karen gave him last night. As it starts to ring, he wonders whether she’ll even be there, having possibly been up for hours, but it picks up on the first ring.

“Hello?” It’s a man’s voice, and it throws Rhodey off for a moment, before he remembers that Karen must be sharing the room, with strangers if not with her own family.

“Hello, is Karen there?” He thinks about introducing himself or saying their room number, but decides against it after recalling the warning from last night about their room being mobbed by people were they on the lower levels with everyone else.

“Karen?” he hears the voice call into the room, muffled like the man’s holding his hand over the phone. A moment later he hears Karen’s voice in the background, then there’s some shuffling and she answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“Karen, it’s Jim, from last night.” 

“Oh, it’s good to hear from you! You need some help up there?”

“If you’re available, ma’am, I’d really appreciate it. I’m the only one up right now.” He also doesn’t want to bother Tony, despite his comment yesterday that he could have helped. Rhodey hesitates for a moment, feeling bad about asking for her assistance, but she had said to call any time.

“Of course, I’ll be right there. See you in a minute,” she says, and hangs up. He appreciates her discretion, not mentioning his name or room number out loud in her room. He hangs the phone up and waits by the door, and true to her word, less than a minute later there’s a quiet knock. He pulls open the door and she comes inside with a smile and a firm handshake.

“I appreciate you coming up, really. I’m sorry to pull you away from your room,” he says, but she waves a hand.

“It’s not a bother at all, I promise. I’m always happy to be helping someone else out. And to be frank, I know who you are, and it seems to me I’m just returning the favor.”

Rhodey gives her a smile, but doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’d never gotten into the superhero business to be thanked or admired, never even really done it to be a hero—he’d joined the Air Force to serve his country and help people on a grander scale, of course, but the Avengers and War Machine had always really been about watching Tony’s back. Much as they might have quipped back and forth about him not being just Tony’s sidekick, he was more than happy to remain in the background and let Tony be the one the public adored, the one who got the thanks and praise and attention. Of course, that came with all the negative aspects as well, but he always did his best to be there for Tony when they affected him personally.

“Was that a ‘roommate’ of yours on the phone?” he settles for asking instead of responding.

“Yes, Mr. Leiman, part of a lovely family that got assigned to the same room as me. Father and three kids, all managed to stay together through the whole thing, though the poor things lost their mother, they’re pretty sure. She worked downtown, in a building that pretty much got destroyed on day one.”

Rhodey grimaces at the reminder of the tragedy affecting so many lives around them. They can look at everything with a cold, clinical eye and say that there’s surprisingly little damage to the infrastructure, or celebrate how many people survived, but the truth is that there’s likely no one left who hasn’t lost someone or something.

“Do you have anyone to be looking for?” he asks her, feeling slightly ashamed for not asking last night.

She smiles and shakes her head. “My parents passed a few years ago, and I was an only child. I’ve got an ex husband, but we were only together for three years before he cheated on me. That was thirty years ago, and I haven’t spoken to him since. Don’t even know where he lives these days. I would never wish him dead, of course, but finding out if he survived isn’t exactly a priority, you know what I mean?” She chuckles and Rhodey nods.

“I’ve got quite a few close friends, I dare say,” she continues, “and I’d sure like to find out what happened to them, but they’ve got their own families to be worried about. In all this mess, I don’t want to tie up communication lines. If they’re alive, then there’s no hurry, they’ll still be there for me to find once we’re all settled back down. And if they’re dead, well…” she pauses for a moment, and though her voice remains strong, he can see the slight shine of tears in her eyes. “If they’re dead, I suppose there’s no hurry then either. They’re with God, and I’ll find out when I find out.”

She pauses again to bow her head for a second, and Rhodey stays silent, giving her the moment. While he doesn’t share her faith, he admires her for keeping it through all of this. He has a moment to wonder what exactly she thinks of aliens, Thanos, Infinity Stones, and Tony, before she’s raising her head again to address him. “What about you, dear?”

He shakes his head with a sad smile. “My mother’s in Georgia, it’ll be a while before I can try to contact her. If you know who I am, you know what happened to most of the others. Most of my other friends were military, they’re dead now.” He glances into the bedroom and Karen’s eyes follow the direction of his gaze. “Tony’s really the only one I’ve got left at this point, and I’m sure as hell not going to let him go.”

He glances up and sees the same intense, slightly awestruck look on her face as he sees in most of the people around Tony now. “Thank you,” she says suddenly, “for taking care of him. He saved us all, he’s the reason we’re free again. I’m glad he has you.”

Rhodey nods, thoughts far away for a moment, but then snaps back to the present. “So, do you happen to know anything about how we’re organizing? I just got up.”

“They took everyone’s names last night when they assigned rooms, and this morning they sent someone around to all the rooms to do a count and get everyone’s home address. They said they’re trying to move people back to their homes as fast as possible, and also help to bring families back together. When they came around they asked everyone if there was anyone they were looking for and went down the list of everyone in the hotel to see if they were in the same building. I don’t know anything more than that, they brought a little food by and asked us all to stay in our rooms until we heard more. Except they know I came up here for you last night and might again today,” she adds, before Rhodey can say anything about her not being in her room now because of him.

“They must be organizing transportation and talking to the other shelters. I wonder if they’ve made progress with the internet yet,” he muses out loud, then shifts back to turn his chair toward the bedroom. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get cleaned up, get dressed and head down, try to help with what I can.”

“Of course. After you,” she gestures into the bedroom.

“Be careful, I think he’s still sleeping,” Rhodey warns, and they move through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Tony is indeed still asleep, shifted over a few inches into the warm space Rhodey left but still looking peaceful. Rhodey figures he’ll let him sleep for as long as he can, and if he’s still sleeping when Rhodey’s done getting ready, he’ll wake him and see if he wants to go down. If he doesn’t, Rhodey will probably stay in the room with him, desire to see how the organization is going be damned. He might have a problem with letting Tony very far from him for a while yet.

Karen helps him through the full shower that he skipped last night, then to change into the clothes he’d picked out earlier. By the time they come out again, Tony is up, sitting up in bed and looking blearily in their direction. The way his hair sticks up and the sleep-soft look of him make a sharp contrast to the elegant, heavenly look to his eyes and skin, and Rhodey has to fight the urge to chuckle at the sight, instead just giving him a fond smile. “Hey, you’re up.”

Tony just blinks at him for a second. Now that he’s awake, the sad look is back in his eyes, but maybe a little less intense than last night, no longer weighed down further by exhaustion. Hopefully the sleep did him some good. “Yeah,” Tony says eventually, then his gaze moves up to Karen, standing behind Rhodey. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Karen says from behind him, sounding more breathless than she had a moment ago. Rhodey isn’t surprised, but he’s glad she doesn’t say anything else or try to move forward to shake Tony’s hand, or anything like that. He’s not sure what Tony would do, but he doesn’t want anyone invading his space right after he’s woken.

There’s another moment of silence before Karen steps around Rhodey’s chair to shake his hand, promising to be available again if Rhodey needs her. In return, he promises to report anything new that he learns today, and she leaves with a smile and a goodbye to both of them. 

When he hears the main door in the sitting room click shut, he turns back to Tony, who’s staring at the doorway where Karen disappeared. “She was here last night,” Tony says, and Rhodey smiles cautiously.

“Yeah, she came up to help me last night too. You were pretty tired, I wasn’t sure you were even really looking.”

Tony looks at him and doesn’t say anything else, so after a pause, Rhodey tilts his head toward the bathroom. “You want to get cleaned up and dressed?”

Tony turns to look at the bathroom like he’s thinking about it, then says “sure,” and climbs off the bed. Rhodey follows him into the bathroom to make sure he doesn’t need help, gets him to brush his teeth and then get into the shower. While he showers, Rhodey goes back out and finds some more clothes for Tony from their box, long pants and a light jacket over a sleeveless shirt. He thinks maybe being more covered up for a bit could help with some of the staring, but he doesn’t want Tony to think he’s trying to hide him away. Maybe he’s putting way too much thought into clothing choices, but it’s not the worst thing to obsess over. He opens the bathroom door for a second to slide the clothes up onto the counter for Tony, then goes back to the supply box to sort the rest of it out into drawers and onto tables in the bedroom.

He hears the shower shut off and some movement from the bathroom. A minute later, the toilet flushes. That answers one of Rhodey’s questions. Just as Tony comes out, Rhodey’s stomach growls loudly, and he realizes that he’s starving. He’d been severely rationed for the last week in the camp, and then he ate just a few extra granola bars and crackers yesterday between Thanos’s death and finding Tony.

Tony glances down at the noise and his brow furrows. “You’re hungry.”

“Yeah, haven’t eaten a lot lately. Are you?” Rhodey tries.

Tony makes that same scrunched up face again, like he’s having trouble finding an answer and is frustrated about it. “Don’t really feel hungry,” he finally says, “but I guess I should eat. I could, maybe. I don’t know. Sorry.” 

The words get progressively quieter and Tony looks down at the floor at the end. Rhodey thinks about his confession last night, what he said about feeling nothing but grief and sadness, and wonders if he’s going to be hearing a lot of unnecessary apologies now.

“Hey, it’s fine, we can get some food and see if you feel like eating. It’s not a problem.”

Tony nods and looks back up at him, so Rhodey continues. “I was going to go downstairs and see what’s happening, try to help with some organization stuff if I can. Do you want to go down? We can see if they’ve got food down there. You don’t have to, we can eat up here if you want. It’s up to you.” He does want to go downstairs, but he doesn’t want to pressure Tony into it. At the same time, he hopes he’s not overwhelming Tony at all, constantly going back and forth with his choices. Things still feel shaky with him, particularly considering his emotional state. Rhodey doesn’t quite know how to deal with him yet, besides just treating him like he always has on Tony’s bad days, after nightmares or bad missions.

Tony thinks for a minute, then says “okay,” and sounds sure enough, so they move through the sitting room, and Rhodey snags the keycard for the room and the phone and tablet off the table before they leave the room and head to the elevators to go down to the lobby.

There’s a small crowd in the lobby, but nothing like last night. Things seem to be well organized, and someone spots them almost immediately and heads over. When Rhodey inquires, the man tells them they’ve got everything set up down the hall, the center of the volunteering efforts and food for the people working, too. He tells them to head over and help themselves.

People stop to stare at them—mostly Tony, but both of them, really—with the same dazed look as usual, but at least whole rooms don’t fall silent when they enter. People keep working. They have dozens of desks set up in one of the ballrooms, with people all around working at both sides of them. A few are on computers, but most are doing work by hand in notebooks and on whiteboards and loose paper.

A woman who’s clearly in charge comes over, introduces herself as Jackie, and points them to the back, where they have food set up. It’s all instant meals and packaged food, but Rhodey’s been living on scraps for a while and he’ll take it. He gets himself a normal portion of food for the first time in a week and has plans to relish it. 

Tony stares at the food with a vaguely sick look, so Rhodey offers him a packet of dried fruit to start with, thinking starting small might help. Tony takes it with a quiet thanks and actually eats it, so Rhodey counts it as a win.

When they’re done, Rhodey tracks Jackie down again. She’s bent over one of the computers, holding a phone to her ear with one shoulder and typing with both hands. She looks to be finishing a conversation, and hangs up just as they approach.

She turns and gives Rhodey a strained smile. “It’s been a hell of a job, trying to communicate with other stations. We’ve still got old-fashioned runners taking stuff back and forth, but we’re trying to get other methods up and running. Internet’s still shot, administrators and whatever else is needed to run it have been gone for a month—I admit I don’t know much about how it works—and everyone on the planet who still has their phone or laptop or whatever is trying to use it now. Site traffic is insane, any and all kinds of messaging are too slow to even be of use.”

Rhodey gestures at the phone she’s set down. “Phones up?”

She nods. “Yeah, locally. Two-way conversations aren’t the best but they’re the best we’ve got right now. We got phone numbers back and forth to every one of the nearby shelters. There were people up all night working on it, then shifted off to us when we got up. We’re sticking with just Manhattan for now, trying to organize beyond that is way too much at once. There were nine different centers set up yesterday, places where they were trying to organize. Nearly everyone had the same basic ideas, so just about everyone on the island is on a list and in a shelter somewhere now, but they’re scattered all over. We need the internet up to make any sort of comprehensive list that we can do much of anything with.”

“You took everyone’s addresses?” Rhodey asks, remembering what Karen told him that morning.

“Yeah, we figured we should start trying to get them home as soon as possible, to help lift the burden on some of the shelters. We’re not too bad off here, a hotel is at least meant for people to live in and we’ve got facilities built in for food, laundry, things like that. But there are offices and factories being used, that’s not sustainable. So we want to get them home, keep the shelters for the people who need it the most.”

“Kids? People who lost families?”

Jackie nods. “Among other things. There’s not a ton of structural damage, but certainly some. There are whole apartment buildings in the city that got leveled. Parts of buildings are destroyed. Plus, in some areas the power and even water went off early. We need to be sure places can support everyone before we start sending them home. But for those that are ready and working, some people live close by in the city and we’ve already got buses and trucks that can start taking them home. People who live farther away are going to have to wait a little longer, so we’ll keep them in the more sustainable shelters, like hotels.”

“For a while, I’d imagine, for some of them,” Rhodey says. With just a few buses running back and forth, even getting people to other parts of the city will take a while, never mind out in the country or even out of state.

“Yeah. It’s going to be a problem no matter how we look at it. There are people in the city who were on vacation or visiting from other countries, from other continents. I have no idea how the airports are looking, but I don’t imagine we’ll be getting planes up any time real soon. We can probably get some people on ships eventually, but for now, they’ll just have to get comfortable here.”

Rhodey glances up at Tony, who’s watching them attentively but hasn’t said anything. “Can I help?” Rhodey asks Jackie. He figures Tony will stick close to him, he might be able to recruit his help for something. Jackie nods and turns back to her desk to shuffle through some papers.

“I can do something,” Tony says quietly. “I… it takes a minute to think things through, but I can help.”

Jackie turns back to them and gives Tony a smile, making an effort but not quite succeeding in disguising the wonderstruck look in her eyes. She hands a few notebooks and a stack of paper each to Tony and Rhodey. “What we’ve got most people doing now is organizing addresses for eventual transport. We went around this morning and took everyone’s here, and we’ve got books coming in from other shelters now. We’re planning to organize transport for the surrounding blocks from here, since we’ll have people who need to stay long-term come here too. We’ve got the map on the wall there,” she gestures to one wall where they’ve got a giant map of the city, with different areas outlined in different colors, and next to it, baskets with matching colored tags full of papers, “and the baskets for organized addresses. Go through the notebooks, find everyone’s address on a map, here—” she reaches back and grabs a smaller map to hand to Rhodey. “Put everyone in the same colored block on the same sheet and include their name and room number or shelter name, and put it in the basket for that area. The brown one is for people who live in New York but not in the city, the black is for people who live in the US but not New York, and the white is for people who live out of the country. When you’ve gotten through a notebook completely, write out “done” on the first page and stick it in the big cart.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey says, shuffling his armful of papers around. Tony reaches down and takes them to give him his hands back for working his chair. He smiles up at Tony for the gesture.

“There’s a desk over there you can work at, they just brought it in. Take a break or quit whenever you need, we’re not punching time cards.” She tries to smile, but the humor is undercut by the tension in her. He doesn’t envy the job she’s trying to do, but he’s grateful that she’s stepped up. They need people like her.

“Thank you for leading everything. You’re making a big difference.”

Jackie’s strained smile melts a little into a more genuine one. She reaches down to shake Rhodey’s hand, and nods at Tony, since his arms are now full. “No, thank you, both of you, for—everything. Everything you’ve done.” Her eyes flick back and forth between them for a second, and then the phone behind her rings and she whirls around to grab it.

Tony follows Rhodey over to the small desk Jackie indicated and they spread their things out and get to work. It’s repetitive and slightly tedious, but it makes him feel good to be doing something. Tony works a little slower than him at first, but eventually gets into a rhythm. People nearby keep glancing up at them and every once in a while, someone walking by on the way to get more water or put papers into the bins stops to say something to them, usually thanks, occasionally offers for food or water. Tony’s pace always slows for a minute after someone talks to them, but he doesn’t seem too thrown off by the conversations. He says a few words in return to other people now, which is at least an improvement over yesterday.

Runners occasionally come in and out, bringing in stacks of papers, electronics, more supplies, and news for Jackie. Sometimes they bring additional volunteers, sometimes they leave with people. They’ve been working for a few hours and Rhodey is over at the wall, dropping a few completed lists into their respective bins, when he sees one of the runners heading his way.

“Colonel Rhodes,” the runner says politely, reaching out to shake Rhodey’s hand. “I’ve got something you and Mr. Stark,” he glances over to the desk where Tony is working—it’s not hard to pick him out in the room, even with half his skin covered now—and back to Rhodey, “might want to hear.”

Rhodey looks back at Tony as well. He’s immersed in his work for the moment, and Rhodey doesn’t want to bother him. Despite that he responds to people now, he doesn’t look entirely comfortable doing it, and seems a little tense when anyone but Rhodey addresses him. “I’ll tell him,” Rhodey says, turning back to face the runner. 

If the man’s disappointed at all about not getting closer to Tony, he doesn’t show it. “Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton survived the invasion and Thanos’s death.”

Blood rushes to Rhodey’s head for a second. Rogers. And the others, morons who betrayed Tony and the world and followed Rogers for no good reason, but it’s mostly Rogers, that son of a bitch, that murderer. Of course the luck of the universe would have it that, with millions of dead civilians, with Vision and Pepper sacrificing their lives, Rogers still survived. 

Another thought comes to him in the next split second and paralyzes him. They must have had to go somewhere. They can’t be here, ever. He can’t, won’t, let them anywhere near Tony. “Where are they?” he says, and his voice comes out hard and unforgiving.

“Got word this morning that they got out to one of the rural areas last night.”

Rhodey relaxes incrementally. At least they’re not close. “Rural areas?”

The man nods. “There’s work to be done out in the farmlands, though thankfully not too much. Since they’re not that populated, they were the last places to be cleared out, so they’re still doing okay for the most part. Apparently in some parts of the country, they only came and rounded them up in the last few days, at least that’s what people are saying. We need more food going out ASAP, so we’ve got people going out to help with the land.”

“And they volunteered for that?”

The man snorts just a little and glances back at Tony again, and Rhodey gets the feeling he’s not alone in the sentiment of not wanting them anywhere near Tony. “They didn’t have a choice. It was tough enough getting them out of the city. They were right there where Thanos was, there was a huge crowd. As soon as things started to calm down yesterday, the mob turned on them. People wanted them dead, for failing the world, for killing Mr. Stark. He saved us all and they were the ones that killed him. People were ready to get vengeance for him right then and there.”

Privately, Rhodey can’t help but agree with them, but he doesn’t express that out loud. He’s not judge, jury, and executioner, and he can’t take this personally, not if he wants to take any sort of leadership role in the reconstruction efforts. He needs to be more professional, not just be Tony’s friend. “So what happens to them now?”

“For now, they’re working out in the rural areas, away from most everyone else. When things have settled down and we’ve got everything back up and running, they’ll be put in prison. They were criminals already, even before Mr. Stark… you know. But it’ll probably take a while. There’s still a lot of confusion, it’s going to take a long time even to get everyone back to their own homes. We have to get power, water, and food to everyone. There are buildings that need fixing or rebuilding. There’s a lot to do, and prisons aren’t exactly our first priority.”

Rhodey nods. “Of course. Might as well get some work out of them anyway.” 

“It’s the least they can do,” the man says.

Rhodey holds out his hand and the man shakes it again. “Thank you for telling me. Good luck.”

The man glances between him and Tony again. “Same to you, Colonel.”

Rhodey watches him leave the room, then turns back to their desk. Tony looks up at him and back down. When he gets back over to the desk, Tony says, “you were gone a while. Did something happen?”

Rhodey opens his mouth, but hesitates. They’re out of the city, away from Tony. It sounds like other citizens are just as determined as he is to keep them away from Tony. Thinking about them might just hurt him. Rhodey wonders whether he should even tell him. But, he thinks, it’s not his decision. He doesn’t have the right to keep information from Tony, not when it pertains to him. “Steve, Clint, and Natasha survived,” he says slowly.

Tony looks up at him, but doesn’t look surprised. He stares into the distance for a minute. “Thanos wanted me to kill them,” he says eventually. “I remember them being there.”

“They’re out in the rural areas now, working on farms and stuff, getting food back to people.”

Tony’s still staring into space. For a minute Rhodey thinks he didn’t even hear him, but after a while he seems to shake himself back into the present. “Good,” is all he says, and then he bends back down to his work. 

Rhodey knows he’s thinking more about it, but if he doesn’t want to talk about it right now, Rhodey won’t push him. He goes back to his work as well.

They continue the same work for another hour or two, in the same pattern as before. Every few minutes, someone walks by to talk to them—mostly Tony—or offer them something. Tony’s responses to them get shorter and shorter, though, and eventually drop off completely. People don’t seem to care that he doesn’t respond, thankfully don’t look offended or anything, but Rhodey’s worried about Tony. He looks up at one point and is startled to see that Tony has abandoned his work completely. He seems to be hunching in on himself, looking too close to how he used to after a panic attack, and Rhodey decides it’s time to call it quits. 

He gathers up their things—Tony doesn’t react when Rhodey scoops the work up from underneath him—and brings them back to Jackie, letting her know that they’re going back up to their room for the rest of the day. It’s late afternoon now, so he knows they won’t be coming back down, but he gives her the number for the phone they gave him and tells her to call him if she needs anything at all. Jackie thanks him for their work, promises to have someone send some kind of dinner up to them. She asks after Tony, and Rhodey tells her that he’s fine, just needs some rest. He doesn’t want to create a scene, and no one here would be able to do anything for Tony besides make him more uncomfortable. At least, he hopes so. He desperately hopes this isn’t some medical problem, or god forbid an alien one that no one would know how to deal with.

He goes back to their desk and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony looks up, face twisted again like last night, like he wants to cry but can’t. Rhodey slides his hand down Tony’s arm to take his hand, and quietly suggests that they go back upstairs. Tony nods and gets up, follows him back to the elevators like earlier in the day. They don’t seem to attract any more attention than usual, and they get up to their room without incident.

When they get there, Tony sinks down on one of the couches and puts his face in his hands. Rhodey wheels around to sit facing him and waits a moment. When Tony lifts his head again, Rhodey takes both his hands in his. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” Tony says first, and something in Rhodey twists, hates Tony feeling like he has to apologize for not feeling well. “All those people.” He stops, and Rhodey gives his hands a squeeze, encouraging him to continue. “They all come up to thank me, and they look at me like… like I can solve all their problems. Like I can help them. But I can’t, Rhodey. I can’t do anything for them. I don’t know what to say to them.”

Rhodey’s heart hurts, hearing this. It’s not really new; Tony’s always felt like he needs to be doing more for people, especially as Iron Man. Anxiety and PTSD and long nights in the lab, trying to come up with new tech for every scenario, trying to do the impossible, to scratch an itch that he’d never be able to satisfy. But this is even worse; with the entire world looking to him and only him as their savior. His physical appearance only adds to it. It makes people see him as powerful, important, and yet he’s still just a person, with human limits. 

People will always expect too much from Tony Stark, that isn’t new. What’s new is Tony admitting it to Rhodey. “You’re already doing what you can, Tony. What you were doing today, that was helping. And they’re coming to thank you because of what you already did. They look at you like that because they’re grateful, because you mean hope and freedom to them.”

Tony looks away. “I don’t know how to be ‘hope and freedom.’ I barely remember what hope feels like.”

Rhodey swallows hard past the lump that creates in his throat. “No one has any right to expect more from you than anyone else, Tony. I know that won’t stop some of them, but that doesn’t make it right. You don’t have to be around them if you don’t want to, but if you do, hold on to that. Most of them just want to thank you, Tony, just to see you. You don’t have to do anything, just be there.”

Tony nods. It’s hesitant, but Rhodey will take it. Rhodey leans back, letting go of Tony’s hands, and grabs the remote for the tv off the coffee table next to them. “Wonder if there’s anything actually on this thing.”

He turns his chair and maneuvers himself out of it and onto the couch next to Tony, who readily accepts his raised arm as invitation and presses close against his side. None of the channels are showing anything but static, which isn’t unexpected, but there’s an on-demand movie list available and Rhodey randomly selects some lighthearted animated movie, not really caring what it is, just wanting some distraction that won’t involve explosions or death. 

Tony relaxes against him and after a few minutes, mumbles “thank you.” Rhodey just tightens the arm around his shoulders briefly and rubs at his arm in response. They watch for a while longer before Tony shifts like he’s uncomfortable, and Rhodey turns to look at him. “I’m sorry for pulling you away,” he says, eyes on the screen like he’s afraid to look at Rhodey. “You were working and you left because of me.”

“It’s fine,” Rhodey tells him, “they had plenty of volunteers down there, and Jackie told us to take a break or leave whenever we wanted.” When Tony doesn’t look convinced, he adds, “my back was aching anyway.”

Tony sits up and whips around to look at him in concern, and Rhodey puts his hands up with a smile. “It’s fine, Tony. I spent a month sitting in the chair and sleeping on the floor, my body just wasn’t super happy about it. I think sleeping in a real bed last night did a world of good. But being hunched over a desk for hours was bringing back a little ache, that’s all. They sent some pain meds up in that box last night.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “You want them?”

Rhodey’s first thought is to deny it, but he decides what the hell, he really is sore. “Sure, if you want to grab them. I put them up on the dresser in the bedroom.”

Tony gets up and disappears into the bedroom for a minute, coming back out with a water bottle and two pills for him. It’s just over the counter ibuprofen, nothing strong, but it’s analgesic and anti-inflammatory and it seemed to help in the camp when he took it. Besides, he wasn’t lying; though he was pretty sore by the time Thanos died, sleeping somewhere comfortable last night really did help a lot. Even being on the couch now instead of in his chair is helping a bit.

He takes them with thanks and Tony settles back against his side to resume the movie. They’ve been sitting comfortably for a while when Tony speaks again. “I never asked, about what happened to you. I’m sorry.”

Rhodey tenses just slightly at the words. “It’s fine, Tony. It’s not like you weren’t pretty busy yourself.” He pauses another second, then makes up his mind, patting Tony lightly on the back before tossing his arm back around his shoulders. “Later,” he says, and Tony nods and drops it. He doesn’t need to hear it all now, to make himself feel even worse. Besides, Rhodey can admit that as much good as having Tony back is doing for him, it still might take him a while to really process the last month. He’s not entirely sure he wants to relive it right now.

Right as their movie finishes, there’s a knock on the door. Since Rhodey is stuck on the couch, Tony gets up and answers it. It’s a young woman, bearing a large plate of warm food for dinner. She hands it to Tony and nearly trips over herself when he thanks her, leaving the room blushing furiously and telling them to call down to the desk if they need anything else.

Tony, at least, doesn’t look bothered by the interaction. The food’s obviously a previously frozen dinner of some kind, but there’s meat and vegetables and Rhodey’s just happy to have something warm again. There’s some dishes in the room but just sharing the plate is easier. Tony eats nearly half of it, making Rhodey smile to see it and then silently laugh at himself, smiling like a proud parent when his kid eats his food.

The evening passes surprisingly fast considering there’s not much for them to do but sit and talk and be in each other’s presence. Rhodey’s content with just that. When it comes time for bed, he sends Tony in to clean up and change first. When Tony comes out of the bathroom, he offers to help Rhodey, but Rhodey tells him he’d promised to tell Karen what was going on anyway, so he calls down to her room again.

By the time Karen comes up, Tony looks at least relaxed from his earlier state, and he actually holds a short conversation with her. When she can’t seem to help herself and bows her head to thank him like she’s giving worship, he doesn’t flee the room or look like he wants her gone. 

She helps Rhodey through his nighttime routine and he tells her what Jackie had said downstairs about their plans to move people. Karen lives in the city, so hopefully she’ll be able to go back home soon.

When she leaves, Tony climbs into bed and settles down while Rhodey moves around again, gathering the clothes they’ve worn—they’ll eventually need to go down and find the laundry—and putting things away. He pulls the curtains partially closed but not entirely, stopping to look out at the city. It’s entirely dark now, not like when he went to bed last night, and it looks odd on the city, seeing some places lit up as usual but large areas still out of power. He can see more stars in the sky than ever before, with so many lights off. He gazes up at them for a few minutes before turning back to the bed and Tony lying in it, lit up like a constellation himself.

For the hell of it, before he gets into bed, he dials his mother’s number on his phone. The call won’t go through, which he expected, but at least he tried. He’ll try again once a day until it eventually goes through, or he finds another way to contact her.

Tony looks like he’s already asleep when Rhodey gets himself into bed, but as soon as Rhodey’s settled down on his side facing him, Tony opens his eyes and scoots closer to him, reaching out to tangle their hands together. Neither of them say anything and Tony’s eyes drift shut again immediately. Rhodey smiles fondly at him and shuts his own eyes, and he’s asleep in minutes.


	11. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring break is almost over and I’m sad to be leaving, but hey, got some decent writing in. So here’s another chapter, courtesy of having a week of few responsibilities.

The next few days are slow but steady progress in every sense. 

Tony gets better about talking to people. He’s still bombarded everywhere they go with people who want to go up and thank him, tell him about the family members they still have left because of him, or just be near him for a minute. He doesn’t tolerate too much of it, but he doesn’t withdraw and get upset like he did the first day. If it starts to tire him too much, he just gets back to Rhodey, who’s getting better at sensing when he’s getting overwhelmed. Rhodey always gets him away quietly, without making it obvious they’re trying to escape the company. 

Rhodey thinks they’re lucky, at least, that people still seem too awestruck by Tony to be wary of him. He knows if this were the old days, if Tony were just Tony and not the savior of the Earth, wielder of the Infinity Stones who shows it on his very skin, people wouldn’t take his prolonged silences and lack of clear emotion well. But thanks to what happened, they seem to respect him enough, for now at least, not to say anything about it.

That will change, he knows. When things really settle down, the novelty will start to wear off. With the way the invasion affected everyone and everywhere, it’s doubtful Tony’s impact will ever be forgotten, but the awe will eventually fade. When it does, people will go back to being people, like they always have been. They’ll speculate and start rumors and pick Tony and his life apart like he’s a toy for their amusement rather than a person. But hopefully, by the time that happens, Tony will be more settled into himself, on steadier ground. Rhodey’s trying his best to get him there.

On the restoration front, things are moving along as well. After two days of nonstop, grueling work by hand, they organize over a thousand addresses for nearly two thousand people, and begin getting the very closest ones back home. On day two, buses begin ferrying people back and forth within the city, those lucky enough to live in the city and whose homes are still intact.

They’re managing to get a lot of people back to their homes, or at least to their own neighborhoods. In their place, those from out of state or other countries are moving into their hotel and other shelters that are more sustainable long-term. They manage to clear out most of the factories and offices being used as shelters, and get everyone into a place with more than one bathroom per hundred people.

In the wake of worldwide disaster, the capacity for human compassion and generosity seems to know no bounds. People are sharing anything they have, from food to cars to houses. People with room in their homes take in others whose homes have been destroyed or their families killed. Children orphaned by the invasion have no shortage of families willing to take them in. People who are transported home get in their own cars and drive out to the nearest shelters to take others back to their homes.

There are problems, of course, they’re impossible to avoid. Fights break out, there’s stealing and disputes and other issues, but they’re handled quickly and fairly. The new leadership that’s stepped up is really doing well. Rhodey hangs back, letting the people like Jackie who have taken charge handle most of it. He’s happy to help where he can, but he’s really not ready to step up into a major leadership position, and Tony is his main priority. He’s glad for Jackie and the people like her who are taking control.

On day three, someone somewhere gets into the national broadcast system and sends out emergency messages with news from around the country. There’s still no decent communication up long distance, but it’s good to at least see something from elsewhere. As far as they can tell from the broadcasts coming out, the entire country is facing a similar situation to theirs. There are restoration efforts going on everywhere, and one of the messages sent out on the broadcast system promises that those experts in their fields who survived the invasion are trying their best to get better communication systems up.

The messages urge people to stop trying to place calls or use the internet, in order to clear the traffic so that things can be fixed and the leaders of the organizational efforts can use what’s still working for necessary communication. Maybe it will help them a little, but Rhodey knows there’s no way they’re going to get everyone to cooperate on that. Half the people who see it will assume that everyone else is obeying the plea, and that they can be the one exception. It’s hard to convince someone not to keep trying to contact their lost family.

Following the example of the national emergency system, local news networks and radio stations begin broadcasting as well. The only things being reported are summaries of the organization efforts and instructions for citizens who need shelter, supplies, or are looking for loved ones, but it’s a good start. 

They find out from the national broadcast that it wasn’t just the militaries that Thanos and his armies devastated. Nearly all the major political leaders of the world are dead, including the US President, Vice President, and a majority of Congress. With the military obliterated, that’s the majority of the US power structure gone.

It doesn’t change much for them in the immediate future; even if Washington D.C. were up and running perfectly, with communications down and so much destruction and death across the country, they’d still be on their own for a while. It doesn’t change their plans, but it does make the distant future even more uncertain. Rhodey thinks about it occasionally, but he mostly puts it aside to focus on more immediate concerns, and he has a feeling most other people are doing the same.

Rhodey helps out where he can each day, and Tony follows him. He’s always asking Tony’s opinion, trying to make sure he’s comfortable with whatever they’re doing and get him to make decisions, but Tony stays quiet and acquiescent for the most part. He is getting better, however. He doesn’t pause for as long before he speaks, and he seems to make decisions a little faster every day. Rhodey doesn’t ask about it, but he thinks—hopes—maybe it was just some sort of side effect of resurrection after having been dead for a month. Like his brain needs time to warm up and get used to thinking quickly again. He still speaks slower and more carefully than he used to before, but he doesn’t stop in the middle of sentences and make a face like he can’t articulate what he’s thinking.

On day three, they venture outside. There are teams now going out to start cleaning up the streets, and others going to some of the destroyed buildings, looking through the rubble for people who might be trapped or hiding. No one could have survived a month if they’d been trapped in the destruction of the initial invasion, but it’s possible that the movements or crash of the alien ships or the shockwave when the Infinity Stones were destroyed could have taken down a few more buildings. 

They’re exceedingly lucky that it’s summertime. If the invasion had happened in the middle of winter, they’d have a hell of a lot more dead people, frozen to death both in the camps and afterwards, with the power out. There’d also be no new food coming from anywhere local.

Rhodey can’t do any kind of physical work, but they’re also organizing things and people they find, and the shuttles are being handled outside. Rhodey spends the next few days outside, helping to organize some of the transportation and the cataloguing of supplies and new people being transferred between shelters. Tony sometimes helps with some of it, sometimes goes off a short distance away to assist with clearing the streets of some of the smaller debris, occasionally working in tandem with Rhodey and his organizational duties.

It’s on day five after his resurrection that Tony finally asks the question Rhodey’s been expecting for some time. They’re a few blocks from their hotel, part of a group scattered within a small area and cleaning up debris from a collapsed building on the block. They’re all spread out within sight of the industrial dumpster they’ve been hauling around with them on the back on a truck, taking it down the streets with them as they clean up. Rhodey’s carrying some of the supplies in a pack and keeping track of what they’ve done and what’s been found. Tony picks up a few small chunks of rubble, walks over to chuck them into the dumpster, comes back and turns to Rhodey. “Pepper,” he says suddenly, and the one word sends ice through Rhodey. “What happened… to Pepper?”

Tony looks sad, but he always does. Rhodey can’t tell whether he’s already expecting the answer, or has seen it in Rhodey’s expression, but it still hurts to force the words out. Expecting the question for the last few days doesn’t mean he’s ready to tell him. “Tony, I’m so sorry. She’s dead.”

Tony gets that look again, that twisted expression that says he wants to cry. Rhodey finally asked about it on day three, and Tony told him that he’s not entirely sure, but so far, he hasn’t ever cried even when he feels like he should, and he thinks he might not be able to. Seeing that look on his face is almost worse that seeing him actually cry. “You’re sure?” he asks Rhodey, but his voice is resigned, not hopeful. 

Rhodey nods, choking back tears of his own. “It was a couple weeks into the invasion. She must have hidden, survived that long without them finding her. She got into one of your suits and used it to attack Thanos. He killed her. But not before she blew the top off the Tower and took a good number of those bastards out doing it.” 

He hopes it’s how she would have wanted to go out, at least considering the circumstances. She’d never been very interested in the hero stuff, it had been one of the main points of contention in her relationship with Tony. Despite the stress and excitement, in some ways, of the high-powered business world she willingly put herself through, that job at least didn’t usually involve any life-threatening dangers. She hadn’t been a fan of the constant worry for Tony’s life and the danger he got himself—and occasionally her, despite his best intentions—into. Still, she must have known she couldn’t beat Thanos. She could have stayed hidden through the invasion, tried to wait it out or just survived on her own. Instead, she’d chosen to find out how to get into the suit, to blow the Tower, to go after Thanos.

“She attacked Thanos?” Tony says, looking vaguely into the distance.

“Yeah.”

“…Oh.” Rhodey figures this is one thing definitely bringing out Tony’s ability to feel grief. He stays quiet for a minute, trying to give Tony time to process this. Tony shakes his head after a while and turns to go back to picking up debris. He stops next to Rhodey first, though, to reach down and grip his shoulder for a moment. It feels like there’s a whole conversation contained in the gesture. Rhodey doesn’t mind being there for Tony, of course he doesn’t, but it’s times like these that he hates being the only one Tony has left. He can’t possibly be enough.

Tony lets go and goes back to picking up pieces of debris and tossing them into the dumpster. A few more minutes pass in silence, while Tony starts working around a large displaced chunk of concrete that’s tilted up at an angle, jutting out of the street. They might be able to move it with a large group working together, or it could take heavy machinery. Either way, they need to clear the area around it in order to get to it, so Tony starts getting at everything he can.

Tony clears an area around the large piece and leans against it for a second as he looks back at Rhodey. “My suits…” he says quietly, and Rhodey puts down the list he’s going through with a questioning look. “Pepper got into one of my suits. You mean Iron Man.”

“Yeah?” Rhodey doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but Tony seems unsure about something, and he doesn’t know what. Had he not remembered being Iron Man until just now? Is he wondering why Pepper would have used one of his suits?

Tony’s eyes have gone unfocused again, arms loose at his sides and full weight resting against the chunk of concrete. “I am Iron Man,” he says, barely a whisper. Maybe he’s recalling memories—or emotions, Rhodey thinks optimistically—associated with being Iron Man. The whisper certainly wasn’t aimed at Rhodey.

A moment later, he staggers to the side. Rhodey’s staring right at him, but he still has to do a double take and rub at his eyes, unsure of what he just saw. Tony had staggered because the enormous piece of concrete he was leaning on had _moved_ , like Tony’s body weight alone was suddenly enough to shift it against gravity.

Tony’s eyes are wide. Rhodey knows his own mouth is gaping open. A thought is quickly growing in his mind, one that Tony obviously shares, because without a word, Tony turns, puts both hands on the concrete, and gives it a light push.

The entire enormous piece, half a ton in weight at least, moves up to its side like it’s nothing more than a piece of plywood being lifted out of the way, so that the rebar that was sticking out of the bottom is now exposed to the sunlight. As it tips over its side and begins to fall back to the ground, opposite the side it was previously resting on, Tony makes a slight gesture and its progress slows. It stops being pulled down fast by its own weight and comes to rest gently on the road, instead of thumping down with the loud crash that it would have on its own.

When Tony makes the gesture to stop it, Rhodey sees something around him and the slab, just the faintest trace of the same blue light that shines in his eyes and his skin. It’s not like Maximoff’s powers were, no swirling mist that moves like it has a mind of its own. This seems almost like an aftereffect, an exhalation of the light that Tony gives off, like the glow is so great it can’t be contained within just his body.

When the concrete piece comes to rest upside down, Tony lets his outstretched hand fall and immediately staggers and drops to his knees. Alarmed, Rhodey moves as close as he can in his chair, frustrated that he can’t get close enough to touch him, not with the uneven ground Tony’s kneeling within. “Tony!” 

Tony’s head comes up, eyes still wide and visibly panting but otherwise looking unharmed. Rhodey lets out the breath he was holding, sagging a bit in his chair. “Holy shit,” he says, gripping the edge of his chair hard to try to steady his hands. 

Tony takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, something Rhodey’s seen him do to try to stave off or recover from panic attacks. He shifts back so he can sit down fully and sprawl his legs out in front of him. He looks up at Rhodey, still just looking stunned.

“Are you okay?” Rhodey asks.

There’s a pause, like he’s going through his own body and thinking about it, and then Tony nods.

Most important thing taken care of, Rhodey moves on. “So,” he says, trying to disguise the giddy feeling creeping up on him, “what was that?”

Tony’s eyes slide over to the concrete chunk and back to Rhodey. “I moved it,” he says, astonished at his own work.

Rhodey lets out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, you sure did. Was that… power from the Infinity Stones?”

Tony blinks at him, then looks down at his own hands like he’s seeing them for the first time, maybe examining his glowing marks. “I destroyed them,” he muses, “but I guess… they left something in me. I didn’t know I could do that.”

Rhodey frowns. _Left something in me_ sounds suspicious and not very good to him. “Are you saying they’re still here?” He remembers how dangerous Tony said they were, how he’d nearly been consumed by them before he’d managed to destroy them. If this is their power, will using it risk Tony like that again?

Tony shakes his head. “No, they’re gone. Destroyed. Whatever life they had is gone. They just left… an imprint. Of their power. I thought it was just sort of… there. But I can use it.”

“Have you been able to feel it this whole time?” 

Tony nods. “Sort of. I thought it was just there because they brought me back. Didn’t think I could access it.”

A shadow falls over them, and Rhodey looks up, startled to see one of the other men from their group. He’d forgotten they weren’t alone out here. The man looks concerned, seeing Tony on the ground, but he must not have seen what Tony just did. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking between Tony and Rhodey.

Tony nods and climbs back to his feet. “I’m okay,” he says, looking at the upside down concrete slab. He tilts his head like he’s considering it, then stretches a hand back out towards it. It rises to hover a few feet off the ground.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” the man who’d come to check on them says, echoing Rhodey’s earlier sentiment. Rhodey is relieved to see that he doesn’t look wary or frightened, just amazed.

Tony looks around for a second, then moves his hand slightly, and the floating concrete begins moving toward the dumpster. Rhodey realizes in the next second that Tony was looking for the other members of their group, making sure no one is in his path, that no one could potentially be hurt if he suddenly drops it.

The man standing next to them is letting out a continuous stream of astonished noises and exclamations. Rhodey hears several others from their group gasp as well, scattered around the block, as the concrete moves past them and they turn, taking notice of Tony and what he’s doing.

When it reaches the dumpster, Tony raises his hand, and the slab rises with it, floating up over the edge of the dumpster, then down inside it. The sound of shifting rubble and some displaced debris clanging off the metal sides echoes for a second when Tony lets it go, and then there’s a whoop from someone in their group, a few shouts and some laughter. 

The group is coming over, drawn by what just happened to gather around Tony. Tony drops his hand and turns, only concerned with heading for Rhodey. Rhodey grabs his hand when he gets close enough, looking up into his face. He looks almost despondent, and Rhodey spends a moment wondering what could be wrong, before realizing it’s just his usual sad expression made worse by exhaustion. It’s not as bad as the first night when Rhodey found him, but clearly, doing what he just did has drained him significantly. “You okay?” Rhodey asks again, prompting concerned looks from some of the others who’ve gathered around them now.

Tony nods slowly, but doesn’t let go of Rhodey’s hand, which tells Rhodey he’s tired, withdrawing a bit, and not likely to tolerate too much of the small crowd now standing around them. “Just… tired. I don’t think I can do that again today,” he says. 

The group, at least, shares concerned looks rather than trying to prompt him to do it again. “It’s getting late anyway,” one of the men says, which is a bit of a stretch, but Rhodey appreciates it nonetheless. “We can head back, take you guys back to the hotel if you need?”

Tony looks tired, but his grip is still strong and Rhodey knows he won’t want to be surrounded by the group for much longer, not now that he’s revealed some new power for them to be fascinated with, renewing their staring and their expectations. He smiles up at the man. “Nah, stay out here, there’s still a lot to be done. We’ll go back on our own, it’s not far. Here,” he hands his notebook and bag of supplies to the man next to him. One of them can take over organization for the rest of the day. He gestures with a tilt of his head for he and Tony to head down the street.

Tony nods at him and follows him silently down the street and back to the hotel. Rhodey’s reminded of the day he was resurrected, when they’d made their way to the hotel for the first time. He’d felt like he was on uneven ground then too, not knowing what was going on with Tony, trying to help him deal with some new change. 

This time, at least, there’s no holdup in the lobby of the hotel. Tony doesn’t look any different than the last few days, and there’s no way for the news to have spread yet. He has no doubt that by tomorrow morning everyone at the hotel will know what Tony did, but for now, Rhodey just stops at the desk to report that they’re going up but the others are still out, and they make it up to their room without incident.

“So,” Rhodey says once they’re alone in their room, “are you really okay?” He knows Tony will be more honest with him when they’re in private. That, at least, hasn’t changed at all from the old Tony.

Tony shrugs and sits down. “That was weird. I really am tired, but it’s already fading. I think I can do it again, and more. Maybe with some… practice. I can try it again tomorrow, work up to using it more. I might be able to do more than just moving things.”

Rhodey nods. “You’re going to be attracting even more attention again,” he warns, remembering Tony’s issues on day one with being looked at like he’s some sort of all powerful being.

Tony shrugs again. “There’s not much I can do about that. But at least now I can do something more. They look at me, you know,” he raises his arms to show off his marks, “like they expect me to be able to do something more than a human. At least now I can.”

“You _are_ a human,” Rhodey says quickly, not liking that phrasing. Tony just blinks at him, and he frowns.

“Not exactly a normal one,” Tony says before Rhodey can say anything else. Rhodey gets the sense he’s deflecting, and inwardly curses how much harder it is to read him now that his expressions and his tone are only ever variations of sadness.

Tony’s staring off into space again, and Rhodey gets the feeling it’s not just him thinking about being a human. He reaches out to grab Tony’s hand again. “Hey, what is it?” When Tony just frowns at him, he adds, “I can tell something else is bothering you.”

Tony looks down at his hands again like he’s examining the marks. “When I accessed that power earlier…” he stops, and waits so long that Rhodey reaches out to slide his arms up Tony’s, gripping his forearms. Tony mirrors the position and looks back up. “I was surprised. I _felt_ surprised.”

Rhodey just stares for a second, and then a wide smile breaks out on his face. “And that’s new?” he says, trying and failing to contain his delight. 

Tony nods. “That was it, nothing else, just surprise. It was there and then gone. But… it was there.”

“That’s what’s important,” Rhodey says, eyes shining with gratitude and relief. Relief for the fact that he hadn’t just been talking out his ass earlier, when he’d promised Tony that they’d figure everything out, that he’d be able to regain his emotions. This is a small step, but it proves he was right. It probably won’t be easy, but they’ll do it.

“This means you can get the rest back, Tony,” he says cautiously. He doesn’t want to seem overly optimistic, or make it sound like he’s placing any sort of expectations on Tony. But god, is this making him feel good.

Tony looks away. “It won’t be easy, Rhodey. I don’t even know where to start for anything else. I didn’t know this would happen.”

Rhodey slides his hands back down to rub soothingly at the insides of Tony’s wrists. “It’s fine, Tony. Don’t push it. Just let it happen. Take as long as you need to.”

Tony nods again, making eye contact with Rhodey before pulling away to stand up and head into the bathroom. Rhodey hopes he’s not feeling overwhelmed. He feels like he’s constantly walking the line between trying to help Tony work through difficulties and pushing him too much.

Rhodey lets it go for now and they spend the rest of the night like usual, watching a movie, talking about nothing important. Rhodey thinks about bringing up Pepper a few times but doesn’t do it, worried that will cause Tony to withdraw. Tony doesn’t seem any different than usual as the night passes and they clean up for bed—Tony’s now taken over helping Rhodey through what he needs to in the morning and evening—and Rhodey doesn’t mention anything more about casualties of the invasion or Tony’s newly discovered abilities or emotion. 

Tony’s lack of reaction is bringing him down a bit, but he reminds himself that Tony probably can’t even feel excitement. On day one he’d said he doesn’t even remember what hope feels like. Maybe he’s not capable of reacting much to this news at all. But he’s the one who’s doing the work of recovering his emotions, and now he’s done it once already. Even if he doesn’t feel excited and hopeful about the future, he’s still making it happen. Rhodey can hope enough for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think my “Tony with alien powers” tag was just talking about him wielding the Infinity Stones? Hehehe
> 
> I’m not entirely satisfied with this chapter and the way it flowed (or didn’t). But it needed to happen. I hope the pacing change isn’t too odd, but the entire planned story takes place over a year, and some of the chapters need to start containing more time.


	12. Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that took so long (yet again), this chapter is highly introspective and for some reason just didn’t want to be written.

Rhodey was right; by the next morning, when they go downstairs for breakfast and to find jobs for the day, it seems everyone knows about what Tony did yesterday. The renewed stares and the slight hush that falls over the people around them remind Rhodey of that first night, immediately after Tony was resurrected.

They go about the morning as usual, trying to ignore it, and Rhodey is surprised to see less tension in Tony than he expected. He’s definitely wound a little tighter than the previous few days, but he’d not withdrawing or ducking away from people’s gazes like Rhodey was afraid he might. It seems like he really was serious about not being as bothered by the expectations people are placing on him, not now that he actually has the otherworldly powers to match those expectations.

Tony had spent a short time this morning making bottles of shampoo and tubes of toothpaste float back and forth across the bathroom. Rhodey had chuckled at the sight. Though Tony still didn’t seem to feel any sort of excitement or happiness about it, there was a spark of something familiar in the way he focused on the task, something Rhodey had seen in him before, usually when he was deeply involved in an engineering project. It just gave more fuel to his conviction that Tony would be able to find his way back to feeling normal again.

Before they go to find work for the day, they agree that they should definitely be outside, where Tony, if he feels like it, can try to explore some of his newly discovered abilities and perhaps make the most difference with them. Though they’ve been outside for the last few days, they hadn’t explicitly asked to be—this time, they specifically ask at the front. The kid behind the desk who’s assigning tasks for the day, who can’t be more than nineteen, nods and stammers at them, mouth slightly open as he assigns them to a group.

Rhodey once again takes over some organizational tasks, while Tony joins a reconstruction team. They take a bus down several blocks to an apartment building that’s had one side smashed in, a large pile of rubble on the street in front of it and a gaping hole in the side of the building. Though it covers a wide area, the damage doesn’t actually seem to be too deep into the building. If they can get the major problems patched up, at least a hundred people can move back into it—maybe not those whose apartments were right in the area of the blast or whatever it was that caused the damage, but everyone else in the building should be okay. Another group has already cleared the building, deemed it safe and made sure there was no one alive and stuck or sheltering in the building before they try to come in and start moving things around. 

As things are beginning to settle down and more and more people are getting back to their home areas—and if they’re lucky, their actual homes—certain people are starting to go back to the jobs they had back before the invasion. Construction workers, safety inspectors, and other similar jobs are in high demand for obvious reasons, and those with any kind of experience are leading some of the cleanup and reconstruction efforts. Doctors, nurses, paramedics and fire rescue, and any other kind of medical specialist, particularly those well versed in emergency medicine, are working wherever and whenever they can. 

Experts have been working nonstop on communication systems. There’s still too much internet traffic and interference to be of much use, but tv stations, news and otherwise, are starting to be used for better communication and organization. There are efforts being made statewide now to coordinate between cities, help to get more people home and find people to work where it’s needed most.

He sees Jackie going in and out of their hotel sometimes, which seems to be her home for the time being, but nowadays she’s usually too busy to talk. He’d never asked her where she was from, if she had family to find, she was always so busy but still, he feels like he did something wrong for not finding time to ask. It’s one of the striking things about this new reality, that the point of conversation after _where are you from_ in small talk with new people is now _have you found your family_. 

With a significant portion of the government dead or in shambles, those who have stepped up as leaders since the end of the invasion are basically creating their own structure from scratch. They’re using some of the basis of what was already there, of course, but tailoring it to the new reality of life on Earth. No matter how well they organize and how fast they clean up, they’re going to be recovering from this physically, cleaning up streets and buildings and trying to settle back into their lives, for at least a year. Emotional recovery will take a lot longer than that. It’s easy, focused on taking care of Tony, to start forgetting that he’s not alone in feeling lost, adrift in a sea of indescribable trauma and trying desperately to find something to start building a future on.

Still, it isn’t all bad. Recovery is progressing. People are generally kind to each other, and the relief that accompanied Thanos’s death is still present. When things start seeming too bleak, Rhodey only needs to look around at all the people who are still alive, fighting to rebuild their lives and helping each other however they can, to remind himself of the good in the world. 

It helps, of course, that he spends every day and night with Tony. Every once in a while, just looking at him, Rhodey’s chest suddenly seizes, sharp emotion running through him, reminding him of what a miracle it is that Tony’s here, of how lucky he is. He’s well aware that there are a lot of people out there who aren’t as lucky as he is, who don’t find it as easy to pull themselves out of grim thoughts, because they don’t have someone by their side through this. Even with Tony’s emotional state, he’s still a comfort, and the progress he’s already made gives Rhodey hope and something to look forward to. Many people don’t have that anymore.

Rhodey begins recording their progress as the crew Tony’s part of starts cleaning up in front of the apartment building. For a while, they all just begin clearing some of the smaller rubble in front of the building by hand, Tony included. Rhodey can tell that the others are excited to see Tony try out something fantastic, but he thinks he properly cowed the few who were impatiently glancing in Tony’s direction on the ride over with a few well-aimed murderous looks. They do _not_ need to make Tony feel like he’s a circus performer and Rhodey isn’t going to let any of that shit slide.

After an hour or so of manual work, Tony does step back and begin trying to move some of the larger pieces using his powers. At first, he just moves several out of the way, down to their dump site, hovering a few feet above the ground. He gains confidence as he goes, but still takes a break after a few, looking tired. He spends a while resting by Rhodey, sitting on a flat chunk of concrete next to Rhodey’s chair and draining a bottle of water they brought along. 

Tony appears to have retained the trait of trying to push himself harder than he should, because he’s still looking slumped in the shoulders when he starts pushing himself to his feet, declaring that he’s ready to go back. Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down, trying to be both firm and friendly in the touch. He still feels a little cautious about some things that he wouldn’t have thought twice about with Tony in the past, but Tony accepts the touch without issue and sits back down. He looks over at Rhodey, questioning but not upset. 

“You still look tired. Eat something,” Rhodey tells him, digging in his bag for a protein bar and handing it to Tony.

Tony takes it and opens it, but looks between Rhodey and the area where the rest of the crew is still working for a moment. “I can still go back.”

“Are you feeling as good as you did this morning?” When Tony doesn’t answer him immediately, he just raises an eyebrow. Tony had accused him of being a mother hen more than a few times in the past; now, with all the new challenges facing them and the changes that make Tony, in some ways, more vulnerable than before, Rhodey’s certainly not going to drop that tendency.

“Still a little tired,” Tony finally admits, and Rhodey reaches out to give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Then rest some more. Don’t push it, Tony. You’ve already done more today than you could yesterday. Give it time to improve.”

Tony nods, taking a bite of his protein bar. He still looks a bit frustrated with his own limits, but he leans into Rhodey’s touch, which reassures Rhodey he’s not annoyed with him. Much as he wants to watch over Tony and Tony seems to be letting him, he doesn’t want to smother him. Whatever changes and problems he’s facing, Tony’s still a grown man, and he doesn’t need a babysitter. It’s a fine line, one he’s been walking the whole time he’s known Tony.

This time, when Tony gets up, he looks like he’s actually ready to go back out, refreshed and at least as energetic as when they’d set out that morning. He also takes it a little slower this time, going back to normal labor for a while between using his powers to do anything.

Even by the end of the day, the others still stop to watch, fascinated, every time Tony uses them. Rhodey can hardly blame them, but he watches them carefully. He’s ready to call every one of them over and kick their asses if need be, if they push Tony or make him uncomfortable. But the closest any of them gets is when one man gives Tony a friendly pat on the back after he’s finished shifting a large piece of roofing and metal. Rhodey thinks Tony manages to hide the slight cringe from any of the others—though Rhodey notices, of course—but he sees one of the others elbow the man in the side shortly afterward, possibly berating him just for touching Tony at all.

Once again, that night, Rhodey has to remind himself that Tony won’t be excited or hopeful about any of his progress. He accepts Rhodey’s praise and happiness for what he did today with a shrug and a distant gaze. But when Rhodey questions him, he says it’s fine, that it’s good that Rhodey is happy for him. It’s harder to tell if he really means it when he still doesn’t express anything but sadness or indifference, but Rhodey takes him at his word. Tony sleeps particularly well that night, heavy and tired from the work he’d done all day.

The same pattern continues for several more days, with few more surprises in between. They continue work on the same apartment building, and in three days, they have it cleared and the open spaces patched or covered, enough to allow habitation of the rest of the building, largely thanks to Tony.

On day two of work, Tony starts moving beyond just taking pieces to the dump. For large areas of walls and roof that they can salvage, they want to move what they can back into place and secure it, helping with the eventual rebuilding that will happen and also sealing some of the gaping holes in the building in order to better secure it for habitation again. Slowly but surely, Tony is able to move some large pieces into place that normally would take a dozen people or heavy machinery and several hours. He exhausts himself doing it, but he does it, and he at least takes several long breaks, enough to keep Rhodey from exploding where he’s forced to sit and watch.

On day three, Tony exercises his new ability to feel surprise when he discovers a new aspect to his powers. So far, he’s only been trying to move objects, since that’s what he’d discovered accidentally a few days ago. But when he’s holding a large piece of the exterior stone wall in place while the rest of the group places a temporary support structure in place around it, even from his place on the sidewalk, Rhodey can see the sudden change in him. His stance shifts slightly and he tilts his head like he’s considering the wall.

At first, when he moves, Rhodey thinks he’s about to lose his grip on the wall after holding it in place for so long, and is readying himself to call out a warning to the others. But Tony’s movements look deliberate, and after a second, Rhodey see the change in the wall itself. The wall is being held up against the rest of the building where it was blasted away, with gaps ranging from a few inches to feet where pieces at the edges of the break crumbled away. But as Rhodey watches, those gaps disappear. The edges of the stone itself seem to warp and move, flowing back together, until after just a few seconds, the piece of the wall that Tony was holding up is whole again, solidly attached to the rest of the building.

Rhodey isn’t the only one who’s noticed: those in the group who are standing closer to the edges see the change and let out noises of amazement, attracting the attention of the others as well as they drop the support posts they’re putting into place and turn to watch the transformation. 

Thankfully, at least one of them is also watching Tony, and lunges forward to catch him a moment later when his knees buckle. 

Two of the men end up supporting Tony on either side; he looks like he’s barely standing on his own legs as they bring him over to Rhodey immediately. Rhodey’s already digging food and water out of his bag, and gets them to let Tony down gently next to him and go back to work to give him some space. Tony’s tolerance for other people in his space or touching him drops significantly when he’s stressed or exhausted, and Rhodey’s pretty sure he’s both right now.

Tony just hunches over his own knees and breathes hard for a while, while Rhodey rubs slow circles into his back. When he brings his head up, Rhodey offers him water first, which he takes with a breathless thanks and manages to drink some of. Once his breathing evens out a little more, Rhodey offers him some food as well, bread they’d been sent out with that morning and a few plain crackers. He’s not sure if Tony’s stomach might be upset by whatever using that kind of power did to him, but he figures it’s better to be safe.

When he seems to be as calmed as he’s going to get, breathing slow and even but leaning against Rhodey’s legs in exhaustion, Rhodey gently asks about what happened.

“Not really sure about that either. I was holding it in place, thinking about how it must have fit into the building before it broke off. I was picturing how exactly the pieces fit together, I think, and then it just… happened.”

Rhodey brushes a hand through his hair and settles it on his shoulder. “You want to go back?”

He feels Tony nod against him. Rhodey looks over the rest of the group, moving on to patching up some of the remaining small spaces. They’ve made good progress in the last three days, and the building is nearly ready for its occupants to return. The piece of wall that Tony just reconnected was the last of the large pieces that they were planning to try to fit back into place. By tomorrow, everything should be done, and the crew can finish the rest without them. He doesn’t feel at all like he’s abandoning them by leaving now.

So he beckons a man over and hands over what little paperwork he’d been keeping track of, telling him that they’re going back to the hotel. This time, they’re far enough away and Tony seems tired enough that Rhodey doesn’t want to try to walk back. After some short discussion, one of the group offers to drive them back in the pickup they’ve been using to transport equipment; the bus that took them out to this area in the morning also delivered several other crews to different areas and won’t be coming back again to pick them up for a few more hours.

By now he’s more than used to it, but Rhodey still feels just the slightest squirming in his gut when they have to go through everything necessary to get him into the truck they’re taking back. It doesn’t take long and neither Tony nor their driver gives any indication that they think it’s an inconvenience at all. But it still reminds him acutely of his situation, every time.

There’s no shortage of people willing to help him, even to go out of their way to do so, and not just because of who he is. Not just because of what he’s done as a soldier or an Avenger or for Tony. People are willing to help him because they’re decent and kind, and he needs it, and that’s how a cooperative society works; people with strength in certain areas pick up the slack for those who struggle in those same areas. Rhodey certainly has other skills to put to use, can contribute in other ways, but he can’t pretend it isn’t awkward and uncomfortable to suddenly be on the struggling side of that equation, when he’s always lived as a physically independent person.

He doesn’t resent his situation. He’s not depressed, or angry at the world, or in denial of some kind. He’s dealt with enough injured veterans in his time to have always been aware that he could end up as one of them. He was always prepared for that—as much as someone can be who hasn’t yet experienced it—and he’s always been a practical, realistic person. He’s pushing forward, adapting, getting used to this reality and the new challenges it brings with it. But it’s not necessarily easy.

He’s self-aware enough to admit that seeing Tony discovering these new abilities is making it worse, in some ways. It’s not jealousy. His friendship with Tony would never have lasted this long if he was going to be jealous of him. Tony’s always been the flashier one, getting attention and awards, he was the one who ran a company and appeared on magazine covers and slept with supermodels, and Rhodey was never jealous of any of that. He had his own military career and other accomplishments to be proud of, and he didn’t necessarily even desire some of the things Tony had. Being personal friends with Tony also helped; Tony let him in more than most other people, and Rhodey got to see all the negative aspects of that lifestyle that Tony usually kept hidden.

Being continually outshone by Tony’s genius wouldn’t have done well for them either, if Rhodey was the jealous type. Rhodey’s no slouch himself—which some people tend to forget, that he went to MIT as well and though he’d be embarrassed more than anything if it were brought up, he is certifiably a genius as well—but Tony definitely has him beat in that area. It’s never bothered him; Tony had never looked down on him in any way, certainly not intellectually (not that he’d be able to if he tried, maybe Rhodey didn’t have his creative genius but he could certainly keep up with anything Tony worked on or talked about).

So no, this isn’t jealousy. He’s not feeling inferior or envious because of Tony’s powers—he wouldn’t even know what to do with something like that, himself—but they’re certainly highlighting the difference between their abilities. What Rhodey’s been doing to help with the reconstruction efforts so far is important work, but the plain, simple truth is that he can’t do what most other people can anymore, and it bothers him sometimes.

He tries his best not to let it show. If anything, it’s frustration at himself, but he wouldn’t want to risk Tony interpreting it as jealousy, or anger, or frustration with him. With Tony’s emotional state and his tendency to withdraw already, Rhodey worries that the slightest provocation could have him pulling away from Rhodey. Then he wouldn’t have anyone to depend on, and it would hurt both of them. So Rhodey tries his best to completely ignore any feelings of inadequacy or discomfort that his situation brings up. It’s exhausting at times and maybe not the healthiest thing to do, but… well, he’s not a perfect person, or the epitome of healthy psychology, despite what some people who’ve only ever seen him next to Tony may think.

Maybe it’s not exactly fair to Tony. Tony may not have his own emotions figured out, but he’s offered multiple times already to talk with, or just listen to, Rhodey about what’s happened to him. Rhodey’s spoken a little now about what happened in the camps, some of the things they did and people he met. He hasn’t gotten into the really heavy stuff yet, but Tony’s always been receptive, easy to talk to. Even with his own issues, he’s doing his best to be there for Rhodey and here Rhodey’s hiding things from him, trying to keep from dumping too much emotional crap on him.

Tony walks under his own power when they get back to the hotel, but he looks a little unsteady still. The man who drove them back walks them to the elevators, making sure Tony’s not going to fall over. When they get up to the room, Tony flops down onto the couch and drapes an arm over his eyes. Rhodey wheels over but hangs back, waiting for Tony to make a move. After a long moment of stillness, Tony moves his arm and looks over at Rhodey through half-closed eyes.

Rhodey gives him a half-smile. “Long day?”

Tony looks up at the ceiling. “That was different.”

“I’m not really surprised,” Rhodey muses. “If your powers came from the Infinity Stones, well, the stones could do a lot more than just move stuff around.”

“Yeah,” Tony says quietly. “I think there’s other things. A lot, probably. But it’ll take time to… figure them out, work on them. Even that, today, that took a lot of energy, but I don’t think I could have done it last week. I’m getting better at it, it’s just… slow.”

“Let it be slow,” Rhodey says gently, “no need to push it.”

Tony looks over at Rhodey for a long moment, then slowly pushes himself back up into a sitting position. Rhodey frowns at the look on his face and moves as close as he can. “What is it?”

Tony’s gaze looks faraway. “If I can do that, and maybe more, then there’s a lot I can fix up myself. I—”

He stops, and Rhodey waits patiently for him to figure out what he wants to say. He thinks and talks faster now than when he was first resurrected, but he has a tendency to have trouble articulating his own desires or anything he thinks might cause a problem. Not all that different from the old Tony, really, except that the old Tony would phrase those things like a fact and cover them in layers of sarcasm to try to disguise the fact that he was really emotionally invested.

After a pause, Tony says, “If you’re okay with moving—” Rhodey nods “—I think… I want to go back to the Tower.”

That is a surprise. “Back to the Tower?”

Tony nods. “We can’t stay here forever. There’s lots of rooms there, even if my old one is gone. And it’s—it was—home, for a while.” He shrugs. “There could be… memories there, something to help me.”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow, thinking of Ultron, and JARVIS’s death, and the “team” that betrayed him. “They might not all be good memories.”

Tony looks away again. “I know. But there’s good ones too. Being there might help pull something up, emotions I’m missing.”

This seems dangerously close to pushing it, which he’d promised himself he wouldn’t let Tony do, but he does have a point, both about them not being able to stay at the hotel forever and about the possibility of being in a familiar place helping Tony. Rhodey reaches out to put a hand on Tony’s knee and Tony looks back at him. 

“If that’s what you want, Tony, we’ll go.”

“Thank you,” Tony says quietly.

Rhodey offers him a small smile. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m not the boss of you.”

Tony’s gaze just slides away from him, drifting off in the way he does now at the end of some conversations when he can’t think of anything else to say. He still looks tired, so they stay in the room for the rest of the night, eating something from their minimally stocked kitchenette for dinner and watching a movie on the couch. 

Tony ends up leaning into him and nearly falling asleep against his shoulder before the sun has even set, so Rhodey urges him to bed earlier than usual, pulling the heavy curtains closed and letting Tony softly illuminate the room. He sits up in bed and reads for a while on his tablet, Tony falling asleep pressed against his hip. Tomorrow, they’ll figure out how to get to the Tower. He has a feeling settling into a routine is going to be a lot harder now, but they’ll figure it out. They always do.


	13. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, yet again, but I’m still going. Monday was our second exam in three weeks and we have another one this coming Monday. A four day unit, yaaaaaay. It’s like this for pretty much the rest of the month, then we get into dedicated study time for board exams, so I’m basically in study hell for the rest of the spring and into summer.
> 
> I just wanted to give a huge thanks to everyone who’s left comments on this story and is putting up with my crazy update schedule. I’ve gotten some really amazing comments on this and it makes me super happy to see people really enjoying the story.

It takes them another day to arrange what they need to with the people who’ve been organizing everything and helping them in the hotel. They both express their gratitude for everything, receiving thanks in return that by now isn’t unexpected, though Rhodey still thinks it’s unnecessary. They’d done some work, yeah, but so have other people, and Rhodey feels like they’ve received more than they’ve given. But they exchange their thanks and depart with pats on the back and best wishes from the people they’ve been working with. Then, two mornings after Tony announced his desire to go back, they find themselves on the street, looking up at the Tower.

Miraculously, the building was barely hit in the initial invasion, and doesn’t seem to have sustained any serious damage during the shockwave from the destruction of the Infinity Stones, despite its proximity to where Thanos died. The main problem is the ruined remains of the top fifteen floors, where Pepper set off the explosion that killed so many of the aliens before she attacked Thanos.

From blocks away, where they could see the top of the building, they saw that some of the support structure is still in place all the way to the top, and it looks like one half of the building is still mostly intact on the floors that were blown. Now, from street level, it’s impossible to really tell the extent of the damage, so they head inside.

Self-sufficient from the arc reactor in place, the Tower hasn’t lost power, though everything is off. It’s all automated down on the public floors, independent of the AI that ran Tony’s private areas. Some of the functions have clearly been damaged, though, because a few of the lights and systems don’t come on when Rhodey and Tony enter.

The private elevator goes all the way up and probably isn’t structurally stable, so they take one of the others up to the top common floor, then access an out of the way staircase to head up to the top floors that used to belong to just Tony, then the Avengers. Now they’re just Tony’s again. Tony is able to carefully pull Rhodey’s chair backwards up the stairs—probably not following any medically approved safety protocols, but they make it work.

Already, just walking around where they used to live and work, back before the invasion—back before Ultron, even, when they were all a team, there were some problems already but nothing like after Ultron—is painful. There are a lot of memories here. Memories of the team, of Rhodey and Tony before all of this, and of Pepper. She and Tony had built this place, retrofitted it for the Avengers after the first invasion, and spent a lot of their communal time here. She’d been Rhodey’s close friend too, and he’s seeing her everywhere he looks. 

He can’t help but wonder what Tony is feeling, what he’s remembering here. Whatever “break” they’d been on when the whole fiasco before the invasion happened, Rhodey knew they’d both loved each other and had every intention of getting back together, maybe permanently. He’d always had the feeling Tony intended to marry her, but in true Tony fashion, wouldn’t admit it to himself, much less to Rhodey. Knowing him, he probably thought he didn’t deserve it. That, or he was afraid of being rejected, so he avoided creating the opportunity at all.

But Tony moves around like usual, looking at everything with a sort of blank curiosity but no more sadness than is usually in his expression now. They’re still several floors down from the major areas of destruction. Nothing is really out of place down here, except for a few things knocked off of counters and shelves, either during the battle at the beginning of the invasion or from the shaking of the building when Pepper set off the explosion.

Most of Tony’s lab spaces are down here, so they shouldn’t be too badly damaged by the explosion. Of course, the lab where Tony worked on the Iron Man suits is locked down permanently, sealed against any entry after they identified Tony’s body. There’d have been at least one suit stored elsewhere—the one Pepper took to her last stand against Thanos—but the majority of them are gone, sealed under several layers of protection and possibly already starting to slowly self-destruct. It’s possible they can break into the lab, but there’s definitely no way to get at the suits now—permanent lockdown meant _permanent_ with Tony, and there was no reason at the time to think Tony would be trying to get back into the lab after his own death was confirmed. Amazingly enough, resurrection wasn’t something Tony had factored into his plans for after his death.

They don’t linger, instead heading up floor by floor to inspect the building. Starting six more floors up, there are several levels of living spaces. Some of them used to belong to the Avengers; even after they all moved to the Compound and started treating him like he carried the plague, Tony had left them room at the Tower. Now, the thought of their rooms just makes Rhodey sick. The only one of them that hadn’t betrayed Tony, been involved in some way in his death, was Bruce, who’d run away and left Tony to deal with the fallout of Ultron—not that Tony blamed him, or Rhodey, really, considering what the witch had done to him, but still, he’d left Tony with her. Vision, born after the initial destruction of the Tower, hadn’t had a room here. At some point, they should clean them up, get rid of everything those traitors left behind. Rhodey’s first instinct is to see if he can get someone to do it for them, but he’ll have to ask Tony first. Much as he’s apprehensive about the idea, if Tony wants to go through their rooms, possibly thinking something there could help him with his emotions or memories, Rhodey will back him up.

Tony ignores their rooms for now, moving up to an uninhabited floor. His old penthouse room is gone without a doubt after the explosion, but there’s plenty of available space on the lower levels. He picks a suite to be his own during reconstruction, then pauses in the doorway, oddly apprehensive. Rhodey wheels up next to him and peers up at his face. “Something wrong?”

Tony glances at him and then away. “There’s—there’s another suite down the hall for you.”

He says it like a statement, but Rhodey can hear the question in it. He doesn’t even need to consider it. “What makes you think I’m leaving you alone just because there’s more than one room?” he says with a smile.

Tony just blinks at him, but then nods. “Okay,” he says quietly, and Rhodey doesn’t think he’s just imagining the relief in it. Rhodey’s relieved, himself—if Tony had wanted to separate now, of course he would have, but he’s not sure how well that would have gone. His dreams so far since Thanos’s death have rarely been bad enough to wake him in the middle of the night, but he’s pretty sure being in contact with Tony has been helping with that. When he does wake, having Tony right there calms him instantly. Eventually, they’ll have to go back to being on their own for longer stretches, but right now, Rhodey’s comfortable still staying with Tony as much as possible. It’s only been two weeks since Tony’s resurrection, after all.

They drop off the few things they brought with them from the hotel and keep moving up. As they go up, they start reaching the floors with serious damage from the explosion. The bottom few just have holes in the far walls and ceiling directly above, with a small amount of water damage from the few times it’s rained since then. Farther up, more and more of each level is destroyed, crumbling and unstable, nothing much left except rubble and the overturned furniture, soggy from water damage plus wind and other elements coming in through the open areas. A lot of it is charred on the levels immediately surrounding what must have been the center of the blast.

They can’t get to the top two floors at all; the stairway going up is unstable and there’s too many gaps and chunks of rubble to maneuver Rhodey’s chair past. There’s not much left above them anyway; the steel framing of the structure is still mostly in place, but that’s about it. The walls of the labs where Tony worked are strengthened against various kinds of damage, but the top floors were where Tony lived, relative security sacrificed for aesthetics. The view was certainly worth it, but floor-to-ceiling windows don’t hold up well against explosions.

There’s not much left of the floor they’re on, either, but Rhodey can see where it can be fixed, where collapsed walls can be reformed, especially with abilities like Tony’s. It’ll be a lot of work, but Tony’s getting better at it every day, and if he wants to do it, Rhodey can’t see any reason why he shouldn’t. They finish their walkthrough of the partially destroyed floors and move down to the lowest affected level. If they’re going to rebuild, they’ll do it from the bottom up. 

It’s odd, being in the Tower and not having an AI around. For as long as he’s known Tony, his creations—his children—have been around too. Tony built DUM-E back when they were at MIT, and JARVIS not long after that. They were with him through so much. Rhodey wonders what could have happened to the bots. Independent and intelligent (in their own way) though they were, their AI wasn’t as extensive or advanced as JARVIS and FRIDAY, and they weren’t part of Tony’s self-destruct protocol in the event of his death. But they traveled around the Tower, between different labs and other rooms, and if they were in the lab where Tony worked on the suits when it was shut down and sealed off, chances are there’s no getting them back.

The idea twists something in him, all of Tony’s children gone. FRIDAY had been limited at first because of Tony’s paranoia after Ultron, but eventually she’d been free to start growing into herself like JARVIS had. It’s an awful thought, that she’d have destroyed herself after Tony died, only for Tony to come back. There’ll be no miraculous resurrection for her. Tony surely has her base code saved somewhere, but just like JARVIS, they could never get her back, not the way she was. It would be like cloning a person by growing a new embryo from their DNA. Sure, they might be genetically identical, be starting off with the same base, but they wouldn’t have the original person’s thoughts, memories, experiences. All the things that made them who they were. That was why Tony had never tried to touch anything to do with JARVIS after Ultron. Having what was left of him in Vision was a bad enough reminder of the loss Tony had suffered; seeing some blankly cloned version of him without the personality he’d developed would have ruined Tony.

JARVIS was Tony’s father as much as he was his child, named for the man who practically raised him and created to truly grow on his own beyond what Tony had designed. God, Rhodey still remembers Ultron, and JARVIS’s death. None of the others had understood what JARVIS meant to Tony. He couldn’t bring his grief to any of them, because they’d ignore him at best and ridicule him at worst. And he hadn’t even gotten time to really grieve, not with everything that happened with Ultron. 

And then the “new members” of the Avengers. Christ, but Rhodey should have realized things would end badly when Rogers allowed that HYDRA witch onto the team without a second thought. He should have known when Banner ran from the poisonous atmosphere of the so-called “team” and Tony withdrew and isolated himself just to protect himself from the rest of them. But Tony had been grieving for JARVIS, and blaming himself for Ultron, and Rhodey had had a lot on his own plate. Tony had seemed to be acting like he normally did after a crisis—not healthy by any means, but not abnormal for him—and so Rhodey hadn’t looked deeper. He’d tried to be there for him as a friend, but he’d never pushed, never wondered if there was something more going on.

How he wishes he had. There were a thousand warning signs from the very beginning that the “team” was, at best, a cobbled together collection of deeply flawed human beings forced by extreme circumstances to come together, led by a man with no real experience and who didn’t even belong in this time, yet who was utterly convinced by both his own ego and the pedestal others had placed him on that he was morally superior and therefore couldn’t compromise or accept any dissent. The rest of the team was just as problematic. Two spies whose motives would never really be clear, whose loyalty—assuming they even had any—was only to the shadowy government organization that held their leashes, an organization that, as it turned out, had been thoroughly infiltrated by HYDRA. Banner, a man coerced into joining the team just so they could take advantage of the monster he tried desperately to contain and ignore, Banner himself mostly treated like the third wheel in his own body by everyone on the team except Tony. And Tony, on whom everything was depending—funds, legal support, organization, a place to stay, tech, literally _everything_ —manipulated into giving all of that by SHIELD and their agendas, told that he wasn’t good enough for the team so he’d kill himself trying to prove that he was.

Maybe he’s being uncharitable. It wasn’t all bad, or things would have fallen apart earlier than they had. Tony had truly enjoyed being a part of the team most of the time, and he’d supported it for good reasons. There were times they all genuinely seemed like friends. But looking back, in light of how they’d fallen apart and how Tony had been killed, it’s easy to focus on only the bad. There’s truth in it, though; while maybe it wasn’t as bad as Rhodey is thinking now, it’s true that even while they’d put him down at every opportunity, the team was utterly dependent on Tony.

Tony was the heart and soul of the Avengers, and the Avengers had died with him in Siberia. Some people might say they died before that, when the team split apart over the Accords, or maybe even earlier, after Ultron. But Rhodey knows that if circumstances had been different, if Tony had survived Siberia and Thanos hadn’t come so soon, Tony would have risen from the ashes and rebuilt the Avengers from the ground up. The team, in every sense, came from Tony. They belonged to him, and if he’d gotten the chance, Tony could have made them into something amazing, the way they should have been from the beginning. Whether he’d have wanted to is another issue, but he could have. If things had been different. 

Rhodey would consider it pointless to think about this, it’s done and what happened happened, except he knows it’s going to come up again. The Avengers may have died permanently with Tony, but Tony’s back, and so are people’s expectations of him. Right now, the world is busy recovering from the destruction Thanos wrought. But when everything’s settled down and more or less back to normal, the questions will start coming about who is defending the Earth, and what they’ll do if something like this happens again. Inevitably, all eyes will be turned to Tony. 

Tony seems to be embracing his powers and the renewed fame and expectations that are coming along with them so far. But there’s a big difference between the few dozen people that have been around them on a daily basis staring, hoping to see some spectacular show of power, and most of the planet assuming Tony will stand up as its lone protector. It’s not at all fair to Tony, but the world’s never been fair to Tony. All Rhodey can do is try to help him navigate it.

They spend a few minutes discussing how best to approach the reconstruction of the Tower and what to do with it. By now, people who need to stay in the city for a longer time are already in appropriate shelters. There’s no need to offer the Tower as one, and in any case, it doesn’t actually have that much room designed to be livable. It’s a place of business for Stark Industries, and once for the Avengers, not a hotel.

Tony tells him that once communications are worked out, he wants to invite SI employees who’ve been displaced to stay at the Tower, and open it and their factories up again for business. SI employed millions of people, many in the city, and if they’re anywhere nearby, it may be easier to organize them from the Tower. Also, as things are beginning to settle down, there are already people going back to work like they used to. Right now it’s mostly construction and repairs, but tech and manufacturing companies are going to be high on the list as recovery efforts continue. SI designed and created tons of things that could be useful in reconstruction. If there are enough employees who are willing to come back to work, Tony will make sure they’re paid well for their time, but he can take that cost onto himself—it’s not like his accounts had been emptied or taken out of his name in the few days between his death and the beginning of the invasion—and distribute products for free to those who need them. It’s not too different from the relief foundations he created for Avengers missions and their fallout, except that in this case, it’s not the unaffected pitching in to help those in need, because everyone is in need, and no one is unaffected. It’s just good people willing to put in effort to help others even when they’re facing their own problems.

By the time they’re finished discussing the basics of that plan, half the day has passed. It’s early afternoon, and Rhodey insists they stop and eat something before Tony starts any kind of work on the structure. It’s a good chance to just relax and look Tony over. He seems to have been energized by planning for how to get SI back up and running and help people. Rhodey doesn’t expect any trouble with beginning work on the Tower, as long as Tony goes slow and doesn’t push himself too much.

Which is why he’s completely unprepared when, seconds after starting to use his abilities, Tony promptly drops the cabinet he’s just taken hold of and collapses. Rhodey’s shouting his name in alarm and moving as close as he can, leaning over as far as possible in the chair to try to shake Tony’s shoulder. “Tony! Tony, hey, Tony—” he stops when Tony groans and stirs, bright eyes opening wide and then narrowing with confusion.

“What… happened?” Tony asks, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“I don’t know, you started to do something with your powers and you just dropped. You feel okay?”

Tony’s brows contract like he’s considering it, but then his face falls further, twists into that expression he got in the first few days, like he wants to cry. Rhodey’s heart drops seeing it, wondering what could be wrong, and suddenly he realizes it’s not that Tony wants to cry—he _is_ crying. There are tears starting to track down his cheeks. And though Rhodey’s not sure what caused it or what it’s about, while most of him is concerned for Tony, some part of him is relieved to see it, after Tony had said he wasn't sure if he could cry anymore, even when he felt like he wanted to.

Rhodey moves to reach out again, opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but Tony wraps his arms around himself and leans forward before Rhodey can touch him, staring at the floor. “Oh god,” he says, practically on a gasp, “Pepper.”

And he lets out a strangled sob and buries his face in his hands. Rhodey pauses for just a fraction of a second before he moves around to put his hand on Tony’s shoulder, rubbing slowly and soothingly at his back. Whatever’s caused this sudden outpouring, Rhodey figures it’s best to just let it happen. Tony hasn’t had a chance to express any of his grief yet since being resurrected, for anything that’s happened or anyone they’ve lost. He probably needs this outlet. Rhodey doesn’t want to be happy to see Tony cry, but this is an emotional release he needs, and it’s progress, even if it’s not a positive emotional state. 

It takes a while for Tony to cry himself out. It could all be about Pepper, or he could be thinking of any number of other things too. He ends up leaning against Rhodey’s legs, letting Rhodey card his fingers through his hair. He seems exhausted, and Rhodey can’t blame him. Rhodey lets the silence stretch on long after Tony’s run out of tears, waiting for Tony to decide he’s ready to move on.

“I know why she did it,” Tony finally says quietly, staring at the opposite wall with unfocused eyes. “I just wish….”

“She hadn’t had to?” Rhodey offers.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for another minute before Tony moves to get up. He’s perfectly steady on his feet, which Rhodey’s glad for. It seems like this was entirely an emotional event, not the physical effects Tony’s felt before from discovering new powers. They move down the hall and into a fully intact room, and Tony sits down heavily on the couch, bracing his elbows on his knees. He meets Rhodey’s eyes, though, firm and strong, letting Rhodey know he’s ready to talk about this.

Rhodey gets right to it. “So, was it connected to your powers? Or did it just hit you all of a sudden?”

Tony stares intently at the floor for a few seconds, thinking. “I remembered her the whole time. It’s not like I forgot about her. Coming back here, I remembered some more stuff, but it was like everything else.”

“Like you were seeing someone else’s memories?” Rhodey clarifies, remembering what Tony told him that first night about not being able to feel emotions.

Tony nods. “But being here, where so much happened, I don’t know, it… changed something. When I went to access my power, it’s like it repaired a connection. Suddenly the emotions and the memories were part of each other, not just two separate things.”

Tony looks up at him again. “There wasn’t anything else,” he says before Rhodey can even think to ask. “Just… more sadness, more grief. I know there’s happy memories here too, but I guess all that got connected was the thought of her dying.” 

He shrugs, and Rhodey doesn’t like how despondent it looks. “Well, that would be the freshest memory of her, finding out that she’s gone,” he says gently. “Maybe it’ll just take more time to get back to the better stuff.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony says, but he doesn’t look convinced, and he looks away from Rhodey again. Rhodey decides to drop it. He can’t force Tony to look at it optimistically, and Tony probably can’t, anyway. Rhodey can’t imagine what it’s like to not be able to feel anything but grief when thinking of the woman he loved. He wouldn’t be too hopeful either, in Tony’s place.

Rhodey has his own worries about what happened, too. Though this is progress in a sense, it was intense, and it obviously had a significant impact on Tony. If this is what it’s going to be like all the time here… “Is that going to happen again if you try to access your powers here? Should we leave?”

Tony shrugs again. “Don’t know. I guess I’ll have to find out. And no,” he meets Rhodey’s eyes again, “I don’t want to leave. I… think that was good. If I’m connecting memories and emotions, even if it’s hard—I should stay.”

Rhodey frowns. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But don’t force it, Tony. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

Tony’s expression softens the tiniest bit. “I know.”

They rest for a few more minutes before Tony gets up to head back to the other room and resume trying to rebuild. Rhodey holds his breath when Tony tries again to pick up the same cabinet, but it rises and settles upright again with no problem. He sees a little of the tension in Tony’s shoulders release when he lets go of the cabinet, and knows Tony was also apprehensive. Now that he’s sure no other collapse is imminent, Tony moves on to fix the small hole in the wall on this level while Rhodey finds a trash can and begins sweeping out the broken items from inside the cabinet. He salvages what he can: a few small knickknacks, some minor tech items and pieces.

By late evening, they’ve nearly finished clearing and resetting the floor. All the furniture is back in place, courtesy of Tony, and relatively clean, courtesy of Rhodey. They move back down to the floor their suite is on, and Rhodey reorganizes the remaining unbroken dishes in the kitchen and puts away the generous supply of food the people at the hotel gave them when they announced their intention to return to the Tower.

They made significant progress on the level they worked on today, and it makes Rhodey happy to think about it, though he knows it won’t be so simple on the floors above. There’s much more extensive damage as they go up. And whatever he says, he’s still worried about Tony pushing himself too hard, trying to force more connections like the one with Pepper. Rhodey’s probably going to be spending more time than he should eyeing Tony through this process.

He is getting better, though. Maybe it’s something about being back at the Tower, but even after Tony’s episode earlier, Rhodey spent hours total with Tony out of his sight today. He always went back to check on him after being away a while, and he’s starting to feel a little fidgety by the end of the day, but he attributes that in part to the stress of the whole day, between the move to the Tower, Tony collapsing, and then spending the rest of the day doing manual labor—as much as he can from his chair, at least.

Rhodey’s clearing up from dinner in the kitchen and Tony is in their new suite’s bathroom cleaning up for bed when a sound jolts Rhodey out of his thoughts. It’s his phone ringing in the next room where he left it to charge with his tablet. He rushes over to get it, knowing he’d told his contacts at the hotel to call him if they needed anything. They might just be checking up on him, making sure he and Tony made it to the Tower okay, but he doesn’t want to miss a call. He doesn’t bother looking at the number or caller ID as he accepts the call and brings the phone up to his ear—it’s not like he’s going to be getting spam calls, and the only people who have this number are the local reconstruction leaders. “Rhodes.”

“James?” says the voice at the other end, and Rhodey almost drops the phone. He clutches it tighter and presses it hard to his ear, like it might teleport him there if he can just get it close enough. 

“Mom?” he croaks, voice already choked.

There’s a laugh across the line. “James, thank God, honey. It’s me.” 

Rhodey lets out a half-laugh, half-sob and hears a similar sound on the other end. “Mom. Are you okay? Are you safe? Where are you—how did you get this number?”

“Slow down, sweetheart, one question at a time,” his mom says with another watery laugh. “I’m fine, I’m at a safehouse. Most of the neighbors are here, we were all in the same camp. They’re sending us back home tomorrow morning. I got this number from the organizers here. I asked around about finding you,” she says, and Rhodey knows that means she insisted with her usual stubbornness, and wouldn’t leave it alone until she got information. He blinks away tears as she continues. “I might have had to drop the whole ‘superhero’ thing a few times to get them to listen to me. But finally they got a call up to New York and someone at the center they got hold of had seen you. They got me your number and the people here let me take a minute to call you. I’ve only got a minute, though, they’re busy and I’m taking up the phone.”

“Thank you,” Rhodey manages. “Thank you for doing all that, mom. I tried to call your phone a few times, but I wasn’t sure if you even had it with you anymore, I lost mine, and then they were asking everyone to stop trying to make calls…”

“It’s fine, honey,” she cuts off his rambling. “Are _you_ okay, James?”

Rhodey smiles and closes his eyes, feeling the tears fall. “I’m fine, mom. I’m back at the Tower with Tony. We just got here today.”

There’s a breath on the other end of the line. “So it’s true,” his mom says, “about Tony.”

“Yeah. So they know about it even down there?”

“Gossip spreads fast, sweetheart, even in times like these. People wanted to know what happened, how we were all saved, and the truth is quite the fantastic story. It spread pretty fast. I’m sure he’s heard it plenty by now, but you tell that boy thank you from me, will you?”

Rhodey nods, even though she can’t see it. “I will, mom.” His voice is getting croaky again. “I—do you want me to come down there? I’m sure we could get down there.”

“No, no, not yet. We’re just heading home tomorrow, I’m sure there’s work to be done in the neighborhood. Most of us are here, we’ll help each other out, but it’s going to take a while to get it all sorted, and you’ve got your own stuff to deal with up there. Oh—I need to go, honey. I’ll take this number down and keep it, and I’ll call you again when we’re all settled and I’ve got my own phone again, okay?”

“Okay,” Rhodey says, clutching the phone even tighter, not wanting to end the conversation. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you so much, James, more than the moon.”

Rhodey stifles a sob in his hand at the old phrase from his childhood. “I love you more than all the stars,” he chokes out. “Bye, mom.”

“Bye, sweetheart. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” 

The call ends and Rhodey drops the phone into his lap, puts his face in his hands, and cries. He’s incredibly happy, and so relieved, but mostly just overwhelmed. There’s been so much going on; it’s not as though he’d forgotten about his mother for even a second, but he hadn’t expected to be able to contact her so soon, so he’d been trying to put her out of his mind enough to focus on other things. But the persistent nagging stress that she could be dead and he wouldn’t know was constantly building. Now, getting confirmation that she’s okay, hearing her voice unexpectedly, is just overwhelming.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, lightly skimming back and forth. Their positions from earlier reversed, except Tony was grieving someone lost, and Rhodey’s doing just the opposite. He takes a deep breath and looks up at Tony, eyes still watery but a broad smile on his face.

“Your mom’s okay?” Tony asks, and when Rhodey looks surprised for a second, adds, “I heard you say goodbye right when I was coming back.”

Rhodey nods. “Yeah, she’s okay. Probably held a gun to someone’s head to get them to track me down and let her call me, but I’m sure as hell glad she did. She’s at a safehouse, heading back to her place tomorrow, with a bunch of other people from the neighborhood.”

Tony nods. “Good. I’m glad she’s okay.” He looks faraway again, maybe thinking about Rhodey’s mother. She’d always doted on him, from the first time Rhodey had come home from MIT with his teenage roommate in tow. Tony must have memories of her.

“She told me to tell you thanks, no matter how many times you’ve heard it already.”

Tony looks away at that, so Rhodey changes the subject. “She’ll call me back once everything’s okay there. You ready for bed?”

Tony seems to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was lost in. He nods, and they move back into the suite so Rhodey can get ready for bed. By the time Rhodey’s finished brushing his teeth, Tony is in bed, eyelids already drooping. Rhodey smiles fondly at the sight, goes over to turn off the lights, then makes his way back to the bed by Tony’s light and hoists himself up into it.

When he turns to face Tony, he stops short. Tony’s practically asleep already and just moves slightly closer to intertwine their hands, not noticing Rhodey’s staring. Rhodey settles down, but he finds himself still staring at Tony’s closed eyes. When he’d turned to Tony just now, he could swear that his eyes were clearer than before. In fact, now that he thinks about it, they were a little clearer earlier in the day, after his breakdown over Pepper. Rhodey hadn’t noticed at the time, between the tears still in them during their conversation and then spending most of the day working, not usually face to face with him. But in the dark room, it’s more obvious. Just now, with Tony giving off the only light in the room, Rhodey could see his eyes more clearly than ever before. They’re still bright and glowing, but the light seems to have settled into the iris and toned down just a bit, giving his eyes more distinct definition.

Rhodey has no idea what this might mean. He’s fairly sure it’s connected to the thing with Pepper and Tony’s collapse after accessing his powers earlier, but he has no idea exactly how they’re connected. He could lie awake in bed for hours and come up with a hundred ideas, but that won’t go anywhere, and it’ll just make him anxious about it. He resolves to simply keep an eye on this development, confirm the change tomorrow and see if anything else happens. Mind made up, he relaxes further into the soft mattress, lightly squeezing Tony’s hands. He feels a slight pressure in return, and smiles as Tony shifts half an inch closer to him in his sleep. It seems like Tony’s improving a little every day, and his mother is okay… things are looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of crying in this chapter.
> 
> That whole tangent thinking about the Avengers wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened. Well, got to think about them sometime.


	14. Side Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m in the brief period between yet more sets of exams, and avoiding studying endocrinology by writing. I know this chapter is something some of you have been expecting, even if it’s not quite what you’d have thought ;) sorry it's so short!

Rhodey is nervous.

They’ve been back in the Tower for a little over a week now, and working steadily every day. The damage gets worse as they go up, but Tony’s getting a better hold on his powers as well. He’s able to work for longer and get more done at once. He’s now rebuilt the bottom four damaged floors. Rhodey’s been helping where he can, and Tony’s always grateful for his support and his presence, but Rhodey’s also been going off for other tasks by necessity. They need supplies, mostly food, now that they’re living on their own again, and delivery isn’t really an option when even the streets are still being cleaned up. Rhodey’s been heading out to get them when needed, and he’s also now organizing the first of the SI employees coming to stay at the Tower.

It’s good for him, actually, to feel like there’s something he’s in control of and responsible for, and not like he’s just making a minimal contribution to Tony’s work on the structure. His job with the new guests is just as important to both of them as Tony’s work, and Tony’s grateful to him for doing it. Tony told him, just as the first family arrived to stay in the Tower, that he was uncomfortable with the idea of talking to them, worried about what they’d think of him and his offer, or that they’d be reluctant to stay near him. Rhodey didn’t think it was likely Tony would make anyone uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny that they’d treat him differently than Rhodey. All the staring and the way people treat him, the expectations and the reverence and the detachment like Tony isn’t a person like them, can’t be doing much for his emotional state, so it’s Rhodey who takes care of everything to do with their guests for now.

Rhodey’s more frequent absences from Tony’s side are both good and bad. Right now, it’s allowing him to be here without having to tell Tony about the trip yet, which he’s grateful for. He won’t deny that having Tony here might have done something for his nerves, though. He’s not the biggest fan of the uncertainty and lack of control inherent in hospitals, particularly for him, after his injury.

One of the jobs in highest demand after the invasion, naturally, was any kind of medical profession. Doctors, nurses, emergency medical workers, any and all others have been working nearly nonstop since Thanos’s death. There’s both a shortage of medical professionals and an increase in demand, and though they’re doing their best, doctors just aren’t able to keep up right now. 

People are doing their best to help, getting food and shelter and anything else they could need to doctors who are working around the clock, so that they don’t need to worry about anything else. Those who can, in some of the less affected areas and with assets they can still easily access, are paying for what they can. People in general are trying their best to transition back into the old patterns of society, including using money. Free relief efforts, supplies for those who need them, and volunteer labor are of course still being utilized without involving money, but money is going out where it can, and more and more people are starting to accept and give money for goods and services again, including medical services—though doctors are accepting money mostly as donations, of course, no one is even thinking of expecting payment for anything or denying care to anyone who needs it.

There are so many people in need of medical care that Rhodey hadn’t wanted to impose, even as he finally forced himself to seek out a doctor. He felt like he was taking valuable time and resources away from people who need them more than he does. But when he’d approached the nearby hospital about seeing a doctor, hoping to be put on a wait list of some kind, he’d been frontloaded and given an appointment for that afternoon. It wasn’t entirely surprising, Rhodey was not only known as War Machine and now one of the few remaining superheroes on the planet, but now everyone knows that he and Tony, savior of the Earth, are essentially inseparable. It felt unfair, but it also would have felt ungrateful not to accept it, and arguing about it would have just wasted more of their time.

So he found himself seeing a doctor that afternoon, explaining what had brought him there and then having several tests done. That was two days ago, and now he’s back for the results, and he’s nervous. 

It’s not so much what he might hear as what it means. He’s had plenty of time building up to this to start to wonder about it, and by now he’s fairly sure of his conclusion. Despite feeling sure, having it confirmed by a doctor will just make it _real_ , somehow, and then it’ll be something he has to actively deal with instead of just avoiding and wondering about it. Then it’ll be a secret he might have to keep.

But it isn’t something he could just keep ignoring and he knows it. He’s always been the type to face a situation head on, even if it might be troublesome, and that’s what he’s doing here. Besides, in regards to his own health, he’d rather not ignore this, not when being here could help him.

What he told the doctors two days ago was the truth; for the last week or so, he’s been starting to feel something in his legs and feet. Just pins and needles, really, with an occasional flash of pressure, but it was something, definitely more than the nothing he’s been feeling since his injury. He’s fairly sure it’s not phantom pains, nor is it in his head.

And it’s unexpected. His was a complete spinal cord injury, and if he hadn’t felt anything for the last two months, he shouldn’t be suddenly feeling anything now. His muscles had gone through a period of spasticity and then started to slowly atrophy, exactly as expected for denervation injury according to the doctors, and this sudden new sensation was a mystery. So he spent the day going through a myriad of tests, everything from blood tests to nerve conduction tests to MRIs of his brain, spinal cord, and legs, and several muscle biopsies—during which he started to feel pressure again, prompting a whole new set of tests and excitement from the doctors.

The doctor he’d seen two days ago had consulted with neurology, not feeling confident enough himself to take on Rhodey’s case alone. The chief neurologist who’d consulted comes back into the room now with his chart and a bewildered expression. After exchanging some pleasantries, she takes a seat on a stool across from Rhodey’s chair.

“Well, your tests have shown a functional, if slow, reflex arc below the L1 level. Muscle contraction strength is weak, as expected with atrophy, but present when stimulated, and with the beginnings of sensation returning, I’d almost like to say your injury was misdiagnosed as a complete spinal when it was actually an incomplete or something more temporary.”

“But?” Rhodey prompts, hearing the question in her voice.

“While it’s not entirely uncommon to see recovery of some sensation and even motor function, it’s rare below the sacral levels, and after this much time, and considering the level of muscle atrophy already and the pattern of sensation return, it just doesn’t seem likely. This isn’t following the usual pattern of nerve recovery.”

Rhodey can see that there’s something she’s hesitating to say, but he doesn’t really want to lead her to it, worried they’ll come to the topic he’s avoiding. Still, he needs to know more. “Unlikely, but possible?”

She nods. “Of course, and evidently, it’s happening. Things happen all the time in medicine that we don’t fully understand yet. Your case is… unique, but, well, there’s been a lot of unique things happening lately, I suppose.” 

That sparks Rhodey’s curiosity, even despite his desire not to get too close to a touchy topic. “Unique, how?”

She glances down at his chart again and he sees her face draw down into a puzzled frown. “Your biopsy results show the expected changes seen in muscle cells with early-stage denervation. But there are scattered areas that are different, almost like the cells are spontaneously rebuilding and reorganizing into functional motor units. Your nerve conduction studies showed some peculiar results in certain areas, and your MRI was something we’ve never seen before.”

Rhodey frowns at the jargon. “Meaning what, exactly?”

She shakes her head. “As far as we can tell, your nerves are… rebuilding themselves, from _both ends_. Nerves are capable of self-repair, but not usually with extensive damage like yours, not after this amount of time, and definitely not from both ends. Like I said, unique. It definitely hasn’t been seen before, and I’d like to continue to monitor it, try to learn more about what exactly is happening and how.”

Rhodey raises his eyebrows. “So… you think this will continue?”

“I really don’t think I can give you an informed opinion on that. This is something we’ve never seen before, something we didn’t even know was possible. Of course, there are always things we haven’t yet discovered or understood about biology. And of course, with the invasion, we were all exposed to new, alien technology, radiation possibly, it could have changed something…”

She goes on to describe various ideas for how this apparently miraculous healing could be happening. Rhodey stays quiet, nodding or asking short clarifying questions when necessary in order to keep her on her theories. As long as she’s coming up with her own ideas, Rhodey won’t feel like he’s actively avoiding the truth.

He’d told the doctors the important details, of course, two days ago. But what he hadn’t told them was the rest; that the feeling he’s regaining is strongest when he first wakes up in the morning and wanes when he’s out on his own for long periods, that there are certain things that clearly provoke it.

That it’s obviously Tony’s doing.

He’d figured it out pretty quickly, once he’d started to really notice that he was feeling better. At first, when it was just fluctuations in pain level, he’d thought it was just normal timing that should go along with the pain in his kind of injury. He’d thought that sleeping in a comfortable bed was making him feel better, and being up and about during the day just slowly made it a little worse. 

But when he’d started to feel some sensations again, he’d connected it pretty quickly. He’s spent every night since the end of the invasion in contact with Tony, the two of them pressed against or wrapped around each other. Even back at the hotel, before the return of any sensation, his pain had subsided each morning and usually come back by the end of the day, but it had also decreased if he’d spent a few hours on the couch next to Tony, watching a movie or just talking, always in physical contact.

He remembers the day Thanos died, when Tony found him again. When Tony had touched him, he’d felt instantly better, like his pain had faded into the background. At the time, he’d thought it was just a psychological thing, the effect of seeing the best friend he’d thought was dead and confirming that he was real. Now, he’s fairly sure it was more than that.

He hopes that keeping this from the doctors isn’t going to cause any issues moving forward. From the sound of it, they don’t know what’s causing it and aren’t going to do much more than keep an eye on it and hope the miraculous healing continues, which reassures him that keeping quiet about the real reason for it won’t hurt him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust the doctors, really, but he doesn’t feel like he can trust this to anyone. Inevitably, if he tells anyone, it _will_ get out. Soon everyone will know, and he can’t do that to Tony.

Tony’s handling the expectations that come with his powers very well so far. But this… this is something completely different. For one, Rhodey’s sure he’s not doing it intentionally. He’s not sure he even _can_ do it intentionally. If it really does take this much time, and physical contact, that would be completely impractical to try to apply to anyone else.

Not that that would stop anyone from expecting it. Health is a topic guaranteed to create extreme emotional reactions, and if people find out that Tony, in any fashion, is capable of healing someone, he’ll be mobbed in the streets. Not only will people expect something he can’t deliver, but they’ll be angry when their expectations aren’t met. Even if Tony were capable of controlling it and healing someone quickly, it would be impractical and exhausting for him to try to do it for everyone. He’d be absolutely overwhelmed by the number of people who’d show up, and there’d be resentment and anger from those who were denied for both Tony and the few who were lucky enough to be chosen.

So Rhodey keeps quiet about it. He’ll keep this to himself for now, especially as long as he doesn’t know for sure the extent of this, how far it could go or how much is Tony’s influence. For the same reason, he makes the decision on the spot not to tell Tony either, not yet. He feels slightly guilty for it, but he doesn’t want to burden Tony with this right now. The last thing either of them needs is Tony hurting himself by trying to force it. Rhodey will tell him, he doesn’t plan to keep this a secret for long, but right now it just seems pointless—there isn’t even anything solid yet, anyway. A few pins and needles isn’t enough to justify burdening Tony with the knowledge and the additional responsibility that’ll come along with this. Responsibility for Rhodey, more than he already seems to have taken on, with him now being Rhodey’s sole caretaker.

He knows he’ll be overthinking this for the foreseeable future. There are so many variables, so many unknowns and possibilities, he could probably spend the next year just imagining a hundred thousand scenarios. Whatever he’s trying to protect Tony from, he knows it won’t last long. Keeping secrets from Tony for any reason makes him feel guilty, and that will force him to tell him soon. He’s too protective, respects and loves Tony too much, to keep this from him for long. Tony deserves more than to have Rhodey keep secrets from him, particularly when they have anything to do with him, for any longer than Rhodey really needs to just process this, be sure, and decide how best to tell him. In the end, this is information Tony has a right to know, and it’s also Tony’s decision what to do with it, not Rhodey’s. Rhodey thinks it’s a good idea not to let it go public, and he’s fairly sure Tony will agree, but it’s still Tony’s decision.

Along with guilt about not telling Tony right away, more than anything, this whole situation is making him feel profoundly selfish. Unlike the decision not to tell Tony about this immediately, which he’s still not very sure about, he’s certain that keeping this from being widely known is the right decision. But it doesn’t stop him from feeling selfish for it. Sure, it’s easy to say that it’s impractical or even impossible for Tony to be using this potential ability for the masses when Rhodey himself is still benefitting from it. Maybe he’s not _trying_ to keep it for himself, for any kind of self-serving reasons, but that’s the end result, and it twists something inside him to realize it. He’s going to let himself be healed, but deny anyone else the possibility in the name of keeping Tony safe.

Yet another thing to keep him up at night, but also another reason, he thinks, to keep this from Tony for now. At the very least, until Rhodey gets his own emotions straight. It feels like an instinctual desire to tell Tony everything the second he gets back to the Tower, to unload all the burdens that have just been placed on him with this knowledge. But that would be asking Tony to share in those burdens, and he won’t—he can’t—do that to him. He can’t put these same questions, about whether it’s really okay to try to keep this from the public and how it might turn out, onto Tony’s shoulders, not while Rhodey still doesn’t know what he thinks about it himself. 

He needs some time to take this in, think it over, and at least decide on his own justifications and reasoning for his thoughts. When he’s sure about that, then he’ll feel like he can be there for Tony when he asks the same questions. He can’t make Tony’s decisions for him, but he can at least present his views with a solid reasoning, and be removed enough emotionally to provide at least a small amount of objective analysis for Tony. 

Hopefully, by the time he feels he’s figured all of that out, he’ll also be a little more sure about the physical process itself. He still thinks there’s no point in telling Tony about any of this as long as it’s nothing more than the beginnings of an unknown healing process and maybe the tiniest bit of sensation. 

He won’t outright lie, though. If for some reason it comes up, if Tony asks, Rhodey will tell him, no matter whether he’s figured any of it out himself or not. He’s hoping that doesn’t happen, though. He wants to be able to figure this out on his own. He feels guilty even thinking about keeping this from Tony, yes, but he’d feel even more guilty for telling Tony everything and not yet having worked through his own thoughts and emotions enough to be there for him through it. Tony might be taking care of him, physically and emotionally, but Rhodey’s taking care of Tony too. He’s trying his best to be there for Tony through these strange changes and new challenges he’s facing, and he feels a great responsibility for that role. It would feel like a failure to Tony for him to go out one day and come back with this kind of news, dump it on Tony and just expect him to figure it all out himself while Rhodey sits to the side, too anxious about whether he’s doing the right thing to be of any help to his best friend.

All in all, this news is bringing him a fair amount of grief. New considerations, burdens, secrets. But he can’t regret it. Even if it doesn’t go very far, he’ll happily take any physical progress, particularly if it makes him any more independent, more able to help Tony, other people, and himself. And if this healing really does continue and do something good for him, he’ll be ecstatic to bring that kind of good news to Tony. Even with all of the other issues, knowing he’s helping someone close to him like this would be good for Tony, Rhodey’s sure.

He shakes himself out of his racing thoughts enough to thank the doctor for all her help and ask her to pass on his thanks to the rest of the neurology team. She tells him to come back in a while for more evaluations, or sooner if anything changes, and he promises to do so. He leaves to go back to the Tower, fairly confident that there isn’t going to be any risk of Tony’s potential healing abilities becoming public knowledge yet. With all their theorizing, and the fact that they all know Tony and Rhodey are nearly inseparable, Rhodey knows there’s no way the idea of Tony having something to do with this hasn’t crossed the minds of any of the doctors. But hopefully, Tony’s absence at the hospital so far and Rhodey’s avoidance of mentioning him has kept that under wraps for now.

Whatever the emotional burdens this has wrought and whatever challenges it might bring soon, Rhodey leaves the hospital and heads home feeling lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if any of the neurology stuff is inaccurate and ruining the story for anyone out there. I’m not a neurologist and the stuff we learn for Step 1 isn’t really that comprehensive in regards to spinal cord injury or denervation/etc (plus I’ve forgotten most of our anatomy/spinal injury stuff from last year, oops…) and I have no practical experience yet with it.


	15. Burdens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again that it’s been so long, I hope everyone hasn’t given up on this story. Like I said last chapter, exam hell. But we’re just about done with the actual school exams, and then the only thing that’ll be occupying me for the next month is studying for board exams. 
> 
> I haven’t watched Infinity War yet, though I know all the spoilers (looked them up and also asked people about them). None of that will be influencing this story, it’s all already planned anyway. I do ask that anyone who wants to discuss IW in the comments make it clear if you’re going to include spoilers in your comment, just so those who are avoiding them can skip past it.
> 
> For those wondering where, exactly, this story is going, it’s meant to be focused on the emotional stuff, so the majority of the chapters are going to be about thoughts/emotions/relationships between people. There is, however, a bit more plot stuff to come; I’m sure most of you can already guess what about. There will also be a few more canon characters showing up eventually!

They’ve settled into somewhat of a routine. A few days before Rhodey’s second hospital visit, Tony began leaving the Tower to help again with some of the surrounding buildings’ reconstruction. He told Rhodey that while he wanted to focus on rebuilding the Tower, he also felt he should be helping out in the surrounding areas. Rhodey hadn’t disagreed. He’d thought it would be good for Tony to get out a little more, particularly now that Rhodey is often busy helping with the new people moving into the Tower and with SI business.

It’s a good thing for the people out there, too. The streets are done being cleared and there’s heavy focus on reconstructing buildings and distributing resources now. They’ve been moving quickly, considering the damage and the decrease in population. Tony’s abilities certainly would be a help to any reconstruction project, particularly now that he’s been honing them working on the Tower—not that the rebuilding isn’t proceeding fine without Tony, but no one would ever say no to his assistance—but that wasn’t the main reason that Rhodey thought it was good for Tony to be out there. 

People see him as their savior, and though Rhodey isn’t necessarily completely comfortable with them making Tony out to be some sort of a god—for their sake or Tony’s—his presence is still a morale booster for everyone around him. Seeing him around, working with him, is good for people. Not that Rhodey would tell Tony that that was the reason he wanted him out there, not with Tony’s reluctance to appear as any kind of hope or happiness for people when he couldn’t even feel it himself. Rhodey understood the feeling—as much as he could, at least, without having any clue what it was actually like to be Tony right now—but as long as they weren’t bothering Tony, and as long as Tony wanted to be out there, it seemed like a good arrangement for everyone, and Tony’s been doing well with it for the last week or so.

The key to that, however, being the “as long as they weren’t bothering Tony.” So far, it seems like everyone has been polite, respecting Tony’s boundaries and limitations. They keep their staring to a minimum, at least as much as can be expected, and no one seems to be pushing him to do any more than he should. He does plenty of that himself, but he does stop when he’s tired, both to keep himself from getting hurt and, possibly, to avoid Rhodey’s wrath should he come back home exhausted and near collapse. So maybe Rhodey’s mothering the living shit out of him now. He’ll take it any day over Tony being dead and Rhodey going through the recovery from the invasion alone.

So they’ve had a routine for the last week. That’s how “routines” go in this healing world, now: there’s too much happening, too much to do and too many unknowns, for any regular schedule to really be permanent. The idea of settling into something is much more fluid than it used to be. For them, it seems a week or so of doing pretty much the same thing is about as much as they can hope for before something changes. 

For now, it’s the completion of the Tower that Rhodey is expecting will be a change to their current schedule. The structural repairs that have been taking up most of Tony’s days are nearing completion thanks to Tony’s hard work and his expanding powers. He’s continued getting stronger every day, and he’s been putting a lot of effort into the Tower. Right now, he usually spends his morning with Rhodey, eating breakfast, talking, planning the day. Then he goes out to help with the repairs to nearby buildings for half the day while Rhodey works with SI people to get the Tower’s operations back up and running and to help organize SI employees and properties to begin work again. They’re beginning to gather up their remaining employees, people who are willing to get back to work to help everyone else in a way that best fits their skills. They’ve got R&D people already starting to meet and being the planning process for new equipment, tech, emergency devices, and other things that could be helpful in the upcoming months and years of rebuilding the world.

By midafternoon, Tony is usually back in the Tower, working on his own repairs to his home. He’s finished repairing everything there was to repair on the lower floors; now it’s about rebuilding the top floors from scratch, which means he needs to take delivery of raw materials with which to create the structure. It’s the delivery and movement of glass, metal, and concrete that is slowing down the process the most right now. Despite Tony’s incredible ability to meld together broken pieces of objects, sometimes appearing to create substance from nothing to fill in the gaps, he hasn’t been able to just create something out of thin air.

His powers, and the things he can and can’t do with them so far, don’t always make sense, even beyond them obviously defying many of the known laws of physics. Rhodey has gotten used to the “magical” aspect by now, having spent the last few years around superheroes who don’t make any sense themselves. Iron Man and War Machine may have been created by a human hand and followed human limitations—what few there were to a mind like Tony’s—but people like Vision and Maximoff, enhanced beings with powers that couldn’t be explained, had become practically routine even before the invasion.

It had still bothered Tony, and Rhodey had suspected it always would. He knew part of Tony’s panic over the initial invasion revolved around not being able to explain what had happened, and though he’d disguised it beneath snark and attitude, Rhodey knew it had always frustrated him to no end that there was no way within their understanding to really explain the Infinity Stones, their powers, or the abilities they gave people.

It would have stressed the old Tony out to an incredible degree, having those kinds of powers himself now, but he hasn’t appeared to really be bothered by it, at least not that he’s told Rhodey. He could be holding something back, possibly not wanting to burden Rhodey with his issues, but along with his missing emotions has come a lowered ability to disguise what feelings he does have, and Rhodey can read him better than ever. He’s fairly sure he’d know if Tony was lying to him or holding something back when they talk. 

Being with him every day helps, too; it wasn’t often that Tony really went out of his way in the past to hide something from Rhodey, he was generally honest with him, but with their jobs separating them so much, it made it easier for Tony to keep Rhodey from knowing what was going on with him. Usually, when he “hid” something from Rhodey, it was less a purposeful move and more a product of Rhodey just not being around enough to know.

It could be, too, that along with his powers has come some sort of intrinsic understanding, one that’s calming his natural propensity to question everything. Rhodey doesn’t quite think that’s true, not with how confused Tony seems to be by his own powers, but there might at least be something to the theory that they keep him from panicking about his own state. Rhodey hopes that’s the reason, not that Tony is so emotionally vacant that he no longer cares about it. Rhodey wouldn’t wish the anxiety back on his best friend, but he wouldn’t wish a lack of curiosity and questioning on him, either.

Rhodey tries not to dwell too much on the nature of Tony’s powers—what’s done is done, Thanos is dead and the Infinity Stones are gone—or his emotional state. They talk every morning and every night, and it seems like Tony is keeping him updated on everything he’s been thinking and feeling. They trust each other completely, and Rhodey has no choice but to trust that things will continue to improve. 

For all he tells Tony to just let it happen, not to try to push things, and that they won’t know what to expect so having specific expectations is pointless, it’s difficult to follow that advice himself. Sometimes it makes him feel a little selfish, like he’s sitting around wishing that he could have the best friend he remembers back, but that’s not it. This _is_ Tony, every part of him is still here, even if he’s having a few problems. It’s mostly just that he wants Tony to be okay. Rhodey will be here for him no matter what, he’s willing to be patient and wait for Tony to recover the rest of his emotions, or even to find a new normal with Tony the way he is now, if that’s how things go. But he doesn’t want Tony to suffer in the meantime. That’s what’s driving his moments of impatience.

Tony hasn’t made any new major breakthroughs in either his feelings or his powers in the last week, but he’s steadily improving in both. He may not have had any more sudden powerful revelations—and Rhodey won’t complain about him not collapsing left and right when he discovers some new ability—but he’s able to do more and work for longer every day. He’s made more progress on the Tower already than Rhodey could have imagined when they first came back.

As for his personal state, Tony’s working with it. He talks to Rhodey, works through some of the things he tends to get stuck on. He hasn’t been focusing on personal guilt or anxious worries like he used to, but when he still can’t feel much beyond sadness, it can be difficult to keep pushing himself to move forward. He responds well to Rhodey’s encouragements, which Rhodey is beyond grateful for. He wouldn’t have any idea what to do, what to say to Tony, if Tony just gave up, couldn’t find any reason or motivation to move on. If Rhodey was a believer, he’d be thanking God for Tony’s strength. Tony’s always been one of the strongest people he knows in the face of adversity, but this is a true test of that strength, and Tony is pushing through, finding _something_ , god knows what, to rely on to keep him going even when he doesn’t actually feel hope, happiness, or excitement. It’s a daunting task, one Rhodey can’t imagine having to face himself. He can only hope that he’s part of what Tony’s relying on.

It’s midafternoon now, around the time Tony usually comes back to the Tower for a break before resuming work on it. He’s been out all day, working with a construction crew on a high rise a block over. When he’d first gone out intending to help nearby, he’d just joined whatever group happened to be closest. After just a day of it, it seemed everyone knew that Tony and Rhodey were staying in the Tower and that Tony was coming out to help with rebuilding, because every morning since then there’s been someone waiting outside for him. Rhodey’s not sure how exactly they’re choosing who gets to have Tony working with them each day, because surely there’s plenty of crews out there who want him around, but whatever they’re doing, they’re civil about it, and they’re not putting any undue pressure or stress on Tony. That’s good enough for Rhodey.

Rhodey’s actually been in an office building down the street for most of the day so far, meeting with some SI and government people. There’s not much of the government left, but the people who took charge early after the invasion have been working hard to figure something out. They’re not trying to do anything radical, just rebuilding a more focused, streamlined version of the old government, one that’s entirely dedicated right now to distributing resources and organizing people in the aftermath of the invasion. Since they have a bit of structure already figured out, Rhodey and the SI people have been meeting with them to get their input on resources needed and how distribution will work. 

Rhodey has more or less taken a job at SI. He was already known for working with Tony as War Machine and as a military liaison before that, and he’s certainly technologically inclined and perfectly comfortable with the kind of work they do. With the military that used to be his life and career more or less obliterated, he’s latched on to SI responsibilities gratefully. 

He’s building up a frighteningly extensive list of traumatic experiences and thoughts to eventually have to work through, and one of them is the destruction of the organization he’s devoted most of his life to, along with most of his friends and brothers in arms. Still, he’s nothing if not versatile. He wasn’t entirely dependent on the Air Force for a sense of meaning in his life, and it’ll never be repetitive or anything less than invaluable to remind himself that being alive now and having Tony with him makes being here worth something. He’ll figure out a way to come to terms with all of it.

When his meetings end, he heads back to the Tower on his own, enjoying being outside. The streets are clear, and though there’s a lingering smell of dust and debris in the air from all of the construction, it’s still a nice day, and the relatively fresh air feels good after spending most of his time inside lately.

He turns at the sound of his name and smiles at Tony walking towards him, bright markings not diminished by the blazing sun overhead. Tony reaches for him when he gets near, and they clasp hands briefly before turning to head back to the Tower. “Coming back for the day?” Rhodey asks.

“Got the exterior walls finished,” Tony reports. “That’s twenty more apartments that they can have people back in within the week.”

“That’s great,” Rhodey says with a smile, pleased to hear that things have been going well for him. They chat idly as they finish the walk back, Rhodey wheeling along and enjoying the simple pleasure, among all this stress and uncertainty, of being in the sunlight and just talking with Tony. It’s an oddly peaceful moment.

The peace is broken when they reach the Tower. There are several men waiting for them outside the entrance. Or waiting for Tony, more accurately, because they immediately turn to him, one of them holding out his hand after the same brief, awed hesitation that most people display now when they’re trying to be professional around Tony. It’s not all that different than before the invasion, actually—Tony’s been famous since childhood, and becoming a superhero had only made him more intimidating. Rhodey’s seen more than one powerful person pause before introducing themselves like Tony’s presence is a bit overwhelming.

“Mr. Stark, I’m Cory Jamison, I’m heading some of the upstate reconstruction projects,” the apparent leader says as Tony takes his hand to shake it.

Tony inclines his head, not bothering to introduce himself in return—they obviously know who he is. Before he can say anything, however, Cory turns to Rhodey, holding out his hand again. “Colonel Rhodes,” he says respectfully, and Rhodey reaches out to return the firm handshake. 

Addressing Rhodey as well instead of acting like he isn’t there seems to have gotten him some points with Tony, because Rhodey sees Tony’s stance relax by degrees. “What can I do for you?” Tony asks.

“We’ve heard you’ve been lending your, ah, skills with some of the reconstruction here in the city.” He waits for Tony to nod before continuing. “We’ve been working on some of the industrial and farming areas upstate. I’m sure you know getting food production back up is one of the major focuses right now.”

Tony inclines his head. “Of course. Stark Industries is working on getting back up and functioning, too, we’ve got significant production capabilities and we’re certainly planning to dedicate some of our resources to food production and distribution.”

Rhodey sees a slight hesitance in Cory and it gives him a bad feeling. “How is that coming along?” Cory asks, and Rhodey senses it’s not just polite or professional interest in the state of the company.

Rhodey speaks up before Tony can. “The company is large, and there’s a lot of employees here in the city who are already coming together. Now that we’re getting the internet back for the most part, we’re also able to organize some of the people gathering at other outposts and factories. It’s still going to take a lot of work, and a lot of organization from a higher level,” he adds, guessing where Cory is hoping to take this.

His suspicions are confirmed when Cory hesitates again. “Ah, yes, of course. But now that we have the internet working pretty good again, you can do that remotely, huh?”

Rhodey can see the way Tony tenses up. “I… suppose so,” Tony says, but it’s quiet, unsure.

Cory smiles, missing the change in Tony’s attitude. “We were really hoping to get your help out there. You’d be a hell of a good guy to have around, getting us through the work a lot faster, and everyone up there would be real glad to see you.” 

It’s obvious from his tone that he thinks this will encourage Tony, but Rhodey can see the way Tony is shrinking back. He’s hunching in on himself, withdrawing the way he used to right after his resurrection, when he still wasn’t comfortable around people. Rhodey’s not quite sure what exactly is causing this extreme reaction, but he’ll back Tony up all the way. 

He fixes Cory with a stern look, wheeling forward a bit to subtly put a hand over Tony’s knee. “I’m sorry, I know you could use all the extra help you can get, but Stark Industries really has to be our priority, and we’re _both_ going to be able to do a lot more for people by staying here and continuing our work with the company,” he says to Cory, then turns his attention to Tony before any of the men can say anything else. “Tony, you going up? I know you wanted to get those new girders in place before the glass gets delivered.” 

Tony latches onto the excuse, nodding. He moves around the men, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and disappearing into the Tower without another word. That alone raises Rhodey’s concern level and tells him that this is serious to Tony, whatever it is that’s bothering him right now.

He sees Cory and the other men frowning after Tony, and Cory even opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything as Tony retreats—thankfully, for his own sake. It should be obvious by now, even to someone who doesn’t know Tony at all, that the conversation made Tony uncomfortable, and if any of the men had bothered him while he was obviously walking away, Rhodey might have to kick their asses.

“I’m sorry to send you back empty-handed,” Rhodey offers, trying to convey his sincerity. Some of his charitable feelings disappear, though, when Cory turns back to him with an irritated expression.

“Look, Colonel, I know there’s a lot to be done here, but we could really use his help. I think getting food out is a little more important than staying in the city to direct the company, when you can just do that remotely. I know it might be a little difficult for you to—to move out there—” he begins, glancing down at Rhodey’s chair, and Rhodey narrows his eyes, dropping the friendly pretense.

“Let me stop you right there,” he says icily, and Cory at least has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “This has nothing to do with me. But it _does_ involve Tony, which makes it my problem. And he clearly isn’t comfortable leaving the city yet. I’ll remind you that he’s still recovering, I don’t think he should be going far.” He hopes they’ll accept that explanation and make their own assumptions about Tony’s physical fitness after what Thanos did to him. No one but Tony and Rhodey knows about Tony’s emotional deficit, and he doesn’t plan on telling anyone else anytime soon. He definitely can’t risk it getting out—people are willing to accept Tony’s powers and his physical appearance because it represents what he did for the world, how he defeated Thanos, and it makes him a powerful and mystical figure. But they wouldn’t understand his emotional problems. They’d be afraid of him at best, and Rhodey doesn’t want to deal with that himself, much less make Tony deal with it.

Cory looks slightly ashamed, but one of the other men speaks up hesitantly. “With all due respect, sir, we’re all recovering. The entire world. That’s what we’re trying to help with out there. And he’s obviously helping here…”

Rhodey keeps his voice flat. “And that isn’t enough for you?” At the man’s confused look, Rhodey elaborates, “Tony’s been devoting practically every waking hour to reconstruction, either of his own home or the surrounding buildings. And you come in here demanding that he do even more? You have no right to expect any more from him than anyone else. I don’t give a damn what you’ve heard about what he can do or what expectations you had when you came here. He’s still a person, and he has limits too. Your work doesn’t automatically take precedence over the thousands, millions, we’ll be helping be reorganizing Stark Industries and getting supplies out all over the country.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Cory says quickly, holding his hands out, “but we just came hoping to ask for some assistance along with the work he’s—you’re—already doing.”

Rhodey crosses his arms. “Ask, or demand? Because _asking_ implies that you can take no for an answer, and it seems to me like you came here expecting a yes no matter what, like you didn’t plan on giving him a choice.” 

Now they’re all looking away, ashamed. Still, Rhodey senses that some of them are still holding onto offense, or righteousness, or whatever brought them here to demand Tony come and work for them without a thought to Tony himself, so Rhodey finishes his thoughts. “And we may all be ‘recovering,’ but I don’t think any of you are recovering quite like Tony. Have any of you been murdered and then resurrected? Hm?”

The fight goes out of all of them at that. “Of course not, I’m—I’m so sorry. We didn’t even think… I can’t possibly imagine what that was like,” Cory says quietly.

Rhodey’s not pleased, exactly—these are all good men, just trying to help people however they can—but he’s glad to know that they’re not going to go back thinking that Tony blew them off. If they understand the gravity of the situation—even if Rhodey’s not sure that’s actually what this is about for Tony—then they won’t be going back and spreading rumors about Tony being unhelpful, or weak, or any number of negative things that he does _not_ need going around, especially now that the internet is nearly back to normal and news is spreading exponentially faster than in the first weeks after in the invasion.

“I’m sorry to send you back without the help you came for, I really am,” Rhodey says with genuine regret, moving forward to hold a hand back out to Cory. “As things move forward a little more, we’ll keep your work in mind. And if there’s anything Stark Industries can do for you remotely, or some other way we can work together, please let me know. We really would like to help you out.”

Cory takes his hand with a small smile and shakes it again. “I appreciate that, Colonel, I do. I’m sorry again for the… assumptions we made. Thank you for the offer. We can always use more help, so as long as you’re open to it, I’m sure we’ll find a way to work together. I—please give our apologies and our best wishes to Mr. Stark.”

They turn to leave and Rhodey takes a deep breath, going back into the Tower and heading straight for the private elevator that will take him up to his and Tony’s living spaces. Now that that’s dealt with, it’s time to find out what, exactly, is up with Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably be pretty short, but it should be coming very soon, now that I’m just about done with exams for a while. Hope you’re enjoying it!


	16. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m officially done with school exams for the year, now I have 4 weeks to prep for board exams. I’ve given myself an hour a day for a “mental break,” not the bad kind lol (plus some free time on weekends) in my study plan, which can and will include writing, so I hope to get plenty more of this story done, plus some parts of my bitter series, and maybe even start on one of the other fics I have half-planned. That might be a little ambitious, but oh well, I’ll try.
> 
> I’ve had several questions about some of the characters that aren’t going to be appearing, mainly Bruce and Thor. I believe it’s in the notes in a much earlier chapter, but neither of them will be showing up in this story; Thanos came very early here compared to the MCU timeline (right after CW) and he had all the Infinity Stones except Time with him, meaning he invaded/destroyed Asgard already. You can picture Thor as dead or escaped to some other planet and hiding out, whatever you want, and same with Bruce. Personally, I see Thor as dead in this story and Banner off-world somewhere as the Hulk, maybe on Sakaar (this time no Thor to come and bring him back, sad I know but oh well, this story is mostly not happy for other characters), but since they won’t be appearing here, you can think whatever you’d like about them.

Rhodey finds Tony sitting on the couch in one of the smaller lounges. Everything about his body language is closed off and Rhodey hurts just looking at him. There’s food on the coffee table in front of him, a late lunch, but Tony’s barely picking at it. Rhodey wheels slowly into the room and stops in front of the couch, a respectful distance from Tony but close enough to reach out if necessary.

Tony clearly knows he’s there—something in his posture shifts—but he won’t look up at Rhodey, and he hunches just slightly farther in on himself, which hurts. Whatever this is, Rhodey doesn’t want anything to make Tony feel like he can’t trust Rhodey, like he should be afraid of talking to him.

He sits there in an uncomfortable silence for a minute, trying to figure out what to say to Tony to ease him into this conversation while simultaneously reassuring him that whatever he’s thinking is okay, okay to feel and okay to express. It’s a daunting task, but while he’s still sitting there trying to figure it out, Tony blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

Tony’s always hated silences between people, particularly when he feels like someone is disappointed or angry with him. It’s a trait that’s apparently continued through this emotional purge and resurrection, and Rhodey feels like an idiot for not expecting it. He should know better than to sit in silence and make Tony feel like he has to just say _something_ ; that nets him nothing but formless apologies and anxiety that makes everything harder.

Rhodey’s first thought is to say “for what?” but that can be interpreted as a condescending demand for an admission of guilt—a tactic he knows Rogers was fond of using on Tony, and one Tony loathed. “I don’t see why you should be sorry,” he says instead, trying to keep a gentle tone. 

Tony tenses up even further. “I—I didn’t mean to close up. Walk out of there like that. They probably think I’m—I don’t know, I…”

He’s not quite stammering, but he seems unsure of his words the way he used to be a few weeks ago, and that’s not good. “Okay,” Rhodey interrupts him, reaching out. Tony falls silent, but when Rhodey takes his hands he finally looks up, face twisted up but at least meeting Rhodey’s eyes. “It’s fine, Tony,” Rhodey tells him, squeezing his hands for emphasis. “You have every right to refuse to do something, whatever the reason. They shouldn’t have just expected you to run off with them, that’s ridiculous.”

Tony’s breath hitches just the tiniest bit. “They’ll hate me. I didn’t mean to just refuse them outright. What they’re doing is important. They shouldn’t be turned away.”

Trust Tony to be thinking of others all the time. “It’s fine, Tony, we talked. They’re not mad. They understood after a minute, and they left with no hard feelings. SI is going to help them out however we can, from a _distance_. You don’t need to be there.”

“Oh. I—really?” Tony looks confused, maybe a hint skeptical, which actually makes Rhodey feel better. It’s a very _Tony_ expression.

Rhodey sighs. “They wanted to be upset, sure, but we had a talk. I made it very clear they have no right to expect any more from you than anyone else, that you’re still recovering from Thanos—not that I told them anything about, you know, you—” he adds quickly, before Tony can worry that anyone else knows anything about his emotional state, “and they understood. Cory wanted to apologize for cornering you like that, and to say good luck with everything here.”

“Oh.” Tony’s looking at the floor again. Rhodey frowns, but when Tony adds, “thank you for talking to them,” very quietly, he thinks he understands. He’s not quite sure if “embarrassment” counts as an emotion, but apparently Tony can feel it. Rhodey resists the urge to smile, in case Tony looks back up and thinks he’s mocking him.

“’Course, Tony. It’s my job to watch your back.” Tony visibly relaxes even more, and Rhodey repositions his chair so he can pull himself onto the couch. Tony accepts his raised arm as an invitation and presses close to his side, bringing back memories of the hotel they’d stayed in right after the invasion. Rhodey reaches forward to snag his phone and Tony’s plate from the table. He uses his phone to turn the tv on and put on a movie and they settle back to watch it, Tony finally eating his lunch instead of picking at it and Rhodey occasionally stealing bits of it.

It’s comfortable, and Tony slowly relaxes completely, slumping against Rhodey after he’s finished eating and becoming absorbed in the movie. Rhodey relaxes as well, mind drifting. He thinks about SI, mostly, and some of the work they’re planning. He has ideas already for some of the devices they could create to help with cleanup and resource distribution, particularly out in the rural areas, where manpower and transportation pose the greatest challenges. 

But they haven’t mentioned the labs even once since Tony’s resurrection. They’ve talked about SI, of course, but Tony’s work with them and conversations about the company have mostly been in the position of CEO, since Pepper is dead and the company needs a leader and organizer. They have an excellent R&D department, naturally; some of the best technical minds in the country, even the world, have always flocked to Stark Industries, where they can have a great impact, work freely on projects other companies couldn’t even imagine. Not to mention the possibility they might run into their boss, a celebrity even before he was a superhero. And while they’re perfectly capable, Tony’s always been involved. It seems fundamentally wrong not to have him putting out ideas and producing tech for the company.

Rhodey’s not sure what Tony’s thoughts are about getting back to inventing. It’s always been such an integral part of him, and there’s no way anything Thanos or the Infinity Stones did to him could have destroyed his intense drive to create, but… well, Tony hasn’t mentioned it, and he could be avoiding it for any number of reasons. Rhodey’s not quite sure how to bring it up, and he doesn’t want to seem like he’s trying to push Tony to “get back to normal” or do something he’s not ready for or willing to involve himself in. 

Still, it can’t be entirely good for him to be suppressing it. In the past, Tony often described feeling like he had too many thoughts in his head, too many ideas, and prolonged inactivity actually gave him migraines. If he’s resisting the urge to go down to the lab now for whatever reason—maybe because he’s afraid of what he will find, the memories it might bring back, how his creativity might have been affected by what’s happened to him, any number of possible reasons—it might be hurting him. At some point, Rhodey won’t be able to stop himself from bringing it up, but he’ll wait a little longer to give Tony a chance to make the first move on the subject.

They’re halfway through the movie when Tony speaks up. “That’s not it,” he says, quietly, but Rhodey hears it and immediately pauses the movie, turning to look at him, knowing this is going to be important. It takes him a minute to figure out what Tony must be talking about, after just thinking so much about SI and lab work.

“What’s not it?”

Tony sits up straight and his gaze drifts away from Rhodey’s. “What you said about… recovering. That’s not why I didn’t want to leave with them.”

“I guessed wrong, huh?” Rhodey says it with a small smile, meant to encourage Tony to continue.

Tony shakes his head. “You weren’t wrong. I’m still… a little messed up, and I don’t just mean the emotion thing. You were right, I feel safe in the Tower, and I don’t really want to leave right now, not while it’s still being rebuilt, not when we’re still trying to organize everything here. But that wasn’t why I… why that happened. They came up and started talking about how everyone knows what I’ve been doing, and then asked me to leave the city with them to do even more, and I just…”

“Got overwhelmed?” Rhodey suggests gently.

“I remember it,” is Tony’s answer, and Rhodey frowns.

“Remember what?”

Tony takes a deep breath. His gaze is faraway. “I remember being Tony Stark. Billionaire and businessman and superhero and it was all _so much_. I was so tired, Rhodey, all the time. For the last few years, I was stretched so thin, I never got enough sleep, I barely ate enough anymore, and I felt like I was barely keeping it together. I spent every day trying to work just a little harder, feeling like if I ever took a break, everything would just fall apart.”

Tony’s eyes close. “I could never stop. I felt so guilty, all the time, for so many things, and I let it drive me. People were always asking me to do more and I never refused, because I felt like I owed it to them, and I’d feel like I failed them if I didn’t.” He forces his eyes open again to look at Rhodey, his expression full of grief and exhaustion and something like shame. “I don’t want to go back to that,” he whispers.

Throat tight at the revelation, Rhodey reaches out to take Tony’s shoulders and pull him in. Tony comes willingly, eyes closing again as he leans into Rhodey’s brief, fierce embrace. “I’m so sorry, Tony,” Rhodey whispers into his hair.

After he lets Tony go to sit back against the couch, Rhodey spends a few minutes quietly contemplating. “Do you want to stop going out to work nearby? Because you know that’s just going to end with other people asking more of you.”

Tony’s already shaking his head even as Rhodey finishes speaking. “No. No, I’ve been helping, I want to continue that. I need to be out there helping. I can’t just do nothing with these powers.”

Rhodey frowns. “See, you just said you used to do things because you felt like you owed people, and now, what you’re telling me, it just sounds like the same thing over again.”

Tony’s face scrunches up like he doesn’t like the idea. “Tony,” Rhodey says, and Tony looks at him. “Do you _want_ to be out there?”

Tony just looks at him for a long moment, but when he finally nods, he looks sure of himself. “Yes. I do want to be out there, and not just because I think I should be. It’s… good for me, to be helping, and working at honing my powers. I think it’s good for me, you know, _emotionally_ too.”

“Okay,” Rhodey says, relaxing a bit, “good. So keep doing that. But you don’t have to feel bad about turning anyone away who asks you to leave the city, or do something you’re uncomfortable with. You can send them to me, if you want, I’ll set them straight.”

Rhodey’s lips actually twitch upward a moment later at the look Tony gives him. It’s very reminiscent of the old Tony. “I don’t need you to talk to other people for me,” Tony says flatly, and Rhodey would sooner cut off his own arm than point out to a still raw Tony that he did in fact need that, earlier today. But a moment later, Tony quietly adds, “but thank you.”

They sit in silence for a minute before Tony sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. “I think I can work up to it, eventually. I’m not going to stay here, afraid to leave the city, forever. I don’t _want_ to. Just… not yet.”

“You don’t want to be pushed into something you’re not ready for, end up taking on more than you can handle, and spend all your time trying to catch up, like before.”

“No, I really don’t.” Tony’s looking at the paused screen, but maybe the Infinity Stones gave him mind-reading abilities and he just hasn’t realized it yet, because he adds, “doesn’t really sound like me, does it?” which is exactly what Rhodey was thinking.

“It sounds like a you that’s been hurt,” Rhodey says softly, seriously. “And it sounds like you’ve spent years looking for an opportunity to take a break from having the world on your shoulders.”

“But I do.”

Rhodey frowns again. “What?”

Tony looks at him again, and his face is full of the kind of despairing sadness it held in the first few days after his resurrection. “I _do_ have the world on my shoulders. Now more than ever. I—I saved it, and everyone knows it, and they’re all expecting me to keep it up, to live up to something more than human. I know this is just the beginning, Rhodey. People are going to expect me to defend the planet.”

Rhodey’s not quite sure what to say to that, because the problem is, it’s absolutely true. Rhodey might be able to turn away a few people with a speech about recovery and some guilt, but he can’t fend off the entire world. Tony has always been held to a higher standard, especially after becoming Iron Man, but now it’s going to be worse than ever. Not only did he singlehandedly save the entire planet, he saved it from a hell that had touched everyone’s lives. Flying a nuke into space after a few hours of an invasion that only affected one city was one thing; coming back from the dead with alien powers and defeating an alien dictator, freeing an entire world from weeks of his oppression, is completely different.

And he’s right to think that people will expect him to continue stepping up to defend the planet. Not only has he proven himself capable already, but he’s the only one left as far as the world knows. Most of its heroes and defenders died in the invasion. Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton, off being put to work before they eventually get sent to prison for betraying the world and murdering Tony, certainly don’t count. Rhodey’s currently no good as a superhero, and even if he does heal and can someday get into the armor again, he knows War Machine is nothing next to Tony as a potential defender of the world, at least in the eyes of the general population.

He can only hope that the other threats out there—because there’s no doubt that there are plenty more, though hopefully few of Thanos’s caliber—will wait a while before making any moves toward the Earth. That they’ll wait and give other defenders who may have survived the invasion the chance to step up, give Tony a chance to recover more, give the people time to rebuild the government and their cities and their families.

Rhodey puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, making sure he has his full attention. “Tony, you don’t _have_ to do anything. I know that sounds ridiculous, and I’m not saying it would be easy to tell people no when they’re expecting so much of you. But you _can_ do it. If you step up to defend the planet, you should do it because you want to, not because you feel like you have to.”

He can see Tony’s throat working. “Isn’t it selfish,” Tony says quietly, “to have all this power and not do anything with it? I defeated Thanos. I can defend the Earth. I might be the only one who can. If there’s another threat, how am I supposed to just let it go, sit back and tell everyone that I need time to myself, while people die?”

Rhodey is caught up in Tony’s eyes, electric blue and shining all the more brightly with unshed tears of tired despair. Exhausted, manipulated, resurrected without his consent and given abilities against his will and beyond his comprehension, taking on those burdens and honestly feeling that it would be selfish not to drive himself to the edge trying to help others using the curse they all see as a gift. Rhodey aches for him in a way that’s fluid, undefined, and he risks drowning in that despair.

He has to pull himself together to address this. Because if he can’t provide a logical answer, Tony will take his silence to be agreement with every bad thing he has thought or assumed about himself and his position. “It’s not selfish not to do something that hurts you, Tony. If you really want to help people, and to do good with your powers, then you need to be healthy and stable, and you need to be happy with what you’re doing. Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons can end just as badly as doing the wrong thing.” 

_Like we’ve already seen_ goes unspoken between them, and Rhodey wonders if Tony is thinking about himself, his past mistakes. While they’re certainly not small in number or consequence, Rhodey isn’t reminded of Tony when he thinks of “doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.” It’s Rogers his mind brings up, the man who, ironically despite all his barbs at Tony about it, had easily the largest ego on the team. The one who, yes, was good at heart, but he wanted too badly to be an independent hero, a role model, and he wasn’t willing to accept oversight because it inherently meant he was less than perfect. The “little guy” who, when he finally became large and powerful, stopped looking out for the people and instead aggressively pursued his own ideals and agendas without bothering to wonder whether anyone else’s opinions differed from his own.

Tony’s gaze drops to his hands. “So… you think I should stop? That I’m not committed to this?”

Rhodey covers Tony’s hands with his own and Tony looks back up at him. “Do you _want_ to do this? Be the protector of the Earth, stand up as a superhero again?”

There’s a long silence, then, “…I don’t know,” Tony confesses, and Rhodey smiles.

“Then wait and see. You don’t have to make this decision now, Tony, and in fact if you did, I’d think you were rushing it. You’re still recovering, still trying to figure out this whole emotional thing and your own powers. For god’s sake, you haven’t even finished rebuilding your home yet. So let things happen, and just keep it in mind. You can make that decision when you’re ready.”

“People are going to keep asking,” Tony says.

Rhodey nods. “Yes, they’re going to keep asking more and more of you. It happens. But none of them are going to be your one and only chance to decide your entire future. That’s your decision, when you’re ready to make it. In the meantime, do what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid to tell people that you can’t help them yet. If they have an ounce of decency, they’ll understand. And if they don’t—” he trails off, mind half-forming threats while his mouth tries to put them into an eloquent sentence. Tony interrupts before he can articulate what he’ll do about people who won’t leave Tony alone, however.

“—I have plenty of experience dealing with negative press, Rhodey. Once the whole… shock, or whatever, wears off, there will be plenty of people who hate me, people that don’t like me no matter what I do. I’m not going to fall apart because of it.”

Privately, Rhodey has his doubts about that. Not about Tony not falling apart—though he is more vulnerable than before, he’s also right about knowing how to deal with negativity and Rhodey doesn’t doubt his strength in the face of it—but about the shock wearing off and people hating him. This wasn’t some isolated incident that people could look at from afar and judge without emotion. Tony literally saved the _entire world_. Every single person still alive on the planet now knows the horror of the invasion in some way, and now Tony, this ethereal, supernatural being in their eyes, is their savior and their symbol of hope and freedom. Rhodey doesn’t doubt that there are some people out there who can and will find an excuse to hate him, but he’s also sure that at least for the duration of the reconstruction and its physical reminders of the trauma they’ve all been through, which could easily last for years, any person trying to say anything less than positive about Tony will be shouted down and torn apart.

Essentially, he doesn’t think Tony’s going to be receiving any hate mail any time soon. But he doesn’t say this to Tony, in part because he knows Tony wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of cheery outlook and glowing assessment of his person.

“Well, good,” is what he says instead, tossing his arm back around Tony’s shoulders and relaxing back into the couch, reaching for his phone to resume the movie.

Tony curls back into his side, resting his head on Rhodey’s shoulder and letting out a long sigh. “Thank you,” he says again.

“You’re welcome, Tony.” It’s gentle and sincere. They pass the rest of the movie in silence, Rhodey’s hand slowly drifting up from around Tony’s shoulders to run through his hair, which causes him to practically melt into Rhodey’s side. 

When the movie is over, Tony gets up and does his daily work on the Tower with just a little bit of time lost, while Rhodey goes down and oversees another family that’s moving in downstairs. They pretty much go back to normal for the moment. This conversation hadn’t solved everything, and there’ll be more challenges ahead, he knows. Whatever he told Tony, it isn’t going to be easy to hold off everyone and their expectations while they wait for Tony to feel comfortable moving forward. Still, Rhodey will be by his side through whatever comes to them.


	17. Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the “writing a lot during my study breaks” isn’t working out as well as I’d hoped, mostly because I never realized how much time it really took to write so much, but at least I’m still going, if slowly. Step is in a week and a half and hoooooooly shit. I’m simultaneously not ready at all and desperate for it to just be over with. Probably won’t be posting anything else until after it’s over, but once it is (after I’ve napped for approximately 3 years) I’m going to write the shit out of some stuff.
> 
> This chapter doesn’t have much in the way of plot, but it’s got plenty of feelings. It was intended to be plotless fluff, but parts of it got a little more emotional than I was originally intending. Pretty soon we’ll be getting into a little more plot-type stuff, life moving forward and all that, and eventually there’s actual *plot* too, you know, with problems and actions and important things popping up. But in the meantime, have some emotions!

“Perfect,” Rhodey says, smiling wider than he has in a while.

Tony’s just finished melding glass seamlessly into place in the penthouse, the very last of the structure to be remade. The sun is just starting to sink down on the horizon, sending brilliant blues and purples streaking across the sky, and Tony is officially done rebuilding the Tower.

If he’s had any trepidation about finishing the project, he hasn’t shared it with Rhodey. It’s been nearly a week since Rhodey started running more careful interference with the people requesting Tony’s time and attention and powers, and the reconstruction of their home has been a part of the reasoning he’s given to anyone he had to deny. So far, luckily, everyone has accepted that and no one has seemed insulted by the rejection, but now that the Tower is finished, that isn’t an excuse he can use anymore.

There’s plenty more work in the city to be done, of course, that doesn’t require moving more than a few blocks out. Tony’s still been helping out nearby when he’s not working on the Tower or with SI, and he’ll be able to do more of that now that the Tower is completed. It’s really up to him; there’s availability and need in pretty much every conceivable area. 

But Rhodey doesn’t really want to sit down and have that discussion now. This is an accomplishment they should spend at least a little time celebrating, not immediately move onto the next of infinite responsibilities. They need to take a break sometime.

Tony drops the hand he had raised to smooth out the glass and looks around at the room at large. Rhodey can see his eyes tracking the progress he’s made, looking at what he’s done. Perhaps he’s imagining the satisfaction in them, but maybe not.

Tony turns back to Rhodey, who gives him an encouraging smile. “Is it good to be finished?” he asks.

Tony nods, glancing around the room again. “Seeing something completed, rebuilt instead of destroyed, is… good.” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure about using the word, but Rhodey can tell that he means it.

They take the now functioning elevator back down to their floor to eat dinner and relax for the rest of the night. They’ll move back into the penthouse once it’s refurnished, but for now, they’re still staying nearly twenty floors down, in the same room they picked out the day they came back to the Tower.

That first day back simultaneously feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago. When Tony had collapsed trying to use his powers, cried about Pepper. When Rhodey still hadn’t been sure if coming back was a good idea. He’s sure now. Tony’s been getting stronger all the time, and if there’s anywhere guaranteed to help him recover emotions, it’s here. Tony is working to get SI back up and running and Rhodey is fairly sure he’ll be back in the lab eventually. Not to mention they have a permanent home now. This has been good for him.

They’re just finishing dinner when Tony speaks up again. That’s something that’s taken some getting used to; how quiet Tony is now. Contrary to popular belief, Tony’s always known how to be quiet, and his silences were always generous and peaceful around those he was comfortable with. The incessant chatter he was usually known for was more a product of his discomfort and distrust of situations and people. Still, there was no doubt that he talked more than most. He always had a million thoughts running through his head, and speaking at least a few of them aloud seemed to help him focus. 

Now, his words are rare. They were always a good thing, at least to his friends—maybe some of them were stupid jokes and annoying snark and even snippy arguments, but Rhodey, at least, could always appreciate the friendship beneath them—but now they’re a gift. The Tony he has around him now only speaks when it’s necessary, and he does it with careful thought and consideration. 

It reminds Rhodey somewhat of the touch-starved, friendless teenager he’d first met at MIT. For all that Tony talked to fill silences in conversation back then, he was a lot quieter around Rhodey than his adult self was around anyone. Rhodey came to learn that it was Tony’s expression of uncertainty combined with his deep desire to actually be friends with Rhodey—he hadn’t wanted to drive Rhodey away. It had been a challenge, and a reward well worth the wait, to get Tony to feel comfortable around him. He thinks maybe this is something like that was; that this Tony, as much as he seems sure of Rhodey’s friendship and devotion to him, is still unsure in a lot of ways, and Rhodey just needs to put in the work to show him that he can be comfortable talking a lot, sharing his thoughts, again. It’s more than worth the effort.

Because he knows by now that Tony thinks about something for a long time before talking about it, he pays particularly careful attention to what Tony does say, knowing that it’s important. Tony’s just finished eating and Rhodey is nearly done when Tony quietly says, “I want to go farther out.”

The scarcity of words has spread to Rhodey too. Tony doesn’t seem to have any trouble listening to him no matter how long he speaks, but Rhodey still tends to feel now that he needs to think over his own words before talking. He finishes the last few bites of his dinner, watching Tony stare at the tabletop. When he’s done, he slowly sets his fork down and leans back in his wheelchair. “Out in the city, you mean?”

Tony nods and looks up at him. “Now that the Tower is done, I can spend that time working with SI. But I still want to be out in the city, helping with the physical reconstruction. And I think… I’m ready to go farther out.”

“How far?” Rhodey asks. He wants both to gauge how sure Tony is of this and to support him.

“I still want to stay in the city, I think. But I can go farther than I have been. Other side of Manhattan, outside it, maybe.”

Rhodey nods, thinking about that. “Roads are all clear, traffic’s still light, mostly reconstruction and people getting back to work. It wouldn’t take that long every day to go a few miles out, if you’re comfortable with it.”

Tony sits back as well, looking briefly up at the ceiling like he’s picturing the rebuilt floors above. “The Tower is proof that I can work on a project this big and follow through. There’s a lot of bigger buildings farther out that need help. And I’m… not going to be available for it forever.”

Rhodey raises his eyebrows, a small smile on his face. “You’re not?”

“As we get SI running smoothly again, they’ll need me to be doing more than just organizing employees and being a stand-in CEO.” He practically whispers it, glancing at Rhodey and away again.

Rhodey knows not to push it. “Well, tell me when that time comes. I can help. By that time maybe there’ll be more of a news scene, too, some way you can get the message out.” Most of the live tv back on now is still reconstruction and transportation news. There are still plenty of people trying to get back home, find their families and gather the remnants of their lives. Sometimes it’s sobering to think about, that Tony and Rhodey are back in the Tower and moving forward with their lives while some people have been living in makeshift hotels since Thanos’s death, still not knowing whether their spouses and children and siblings are alive or dead.

He can practically see the relief in Tony at not being asked more about going back to R&D work for SI. Rhodey sits up straighter in his chair, catching Tony’s attention. “We’ll deal with getting you out farther, and SI, and everything, okay? But for now, we need a break. A _real_ one. You just finished rebuilding the whole Tower, I think that’s reason enough to take a day off, don’t you?”

Tony looks a little surprised at that, but he just nods along. “Okay.”

Rhodey smiles. “And I don’t mean a ‘sit around the Tower’ break, either. We do that plenty when we need an hour off. We’re at least going to leave. I can go down in the morning and tell everyone you need a day and we can go out one of the back ways.”

Tony doesn’t look thrilled by the idea—not that he ever exactly looks excited by anything anymore—but he doesn’t protest, either. They relax for the rest of the night, and in the morning, Rhodey does exactly what he’d planned. He makes sure both the SI employees in the building and the construction people in the front know that Tony needs to take a day after all of the work he put into the Tower, and if any of them have anything negative to say about it, they’re smart enough not to do it in front of Rhodey.

They enjoy a longer breakfast than usual and then head out one of the side entrances, just in case there’s any sort of a crowd out front looking for Tony. Not that people won’t recognize them in a second on the street, but at least those people won’t be explicitly looking for them. 

They just walk—wheel, in Rhodey’s case—along for quite a while, occasionally talking but mostly silent, just enjoying the warmth and fresh air. The lingering smells dredged up by construction work still permeate everything, but it’s better than the smell of death and rot and destruction that was hanging in the air throughout the invasion, and the air is still cleaner than New York City ever was before the invasion, with relatively little traffic back on the streets yet.

As they move along, taking everything in at street level as they go rather than just heading to a destination, Rhodey starts to realize how much he’s been missing, spending most of his time in the Tower and so focused on SI and Tony. While the work he’s doing is important, of course, it’s just one small part of the rebuilding of lives that’s happening all over the world. They’ve been focusing on what they can do to help people recover, but that’s a large-scale idea, and he hasn’t really been taking the time out to think about the little details of everyday life for normal people.

On the one hand, there are obvious differences. There are still people out on the street, going to and fro or even just walking aimlessly like Tony and Rhodey are. People at work, people alone, friends, families. They stare at Tony, which isn’t really any different than it used to be. But aside from a few people surreptitiously snapping pictures of Tony on their phones, there’s no one bothering them, definitely no media people looking for an interview or paparazzi looking for something to sell.

It’s only when he actually sees one on a leash that he realizes how few dogs he’s seen. Of course, pets had to be left behind when everyone was moved to the camps. Alone for more than a month, most of those that didn’t—or couldn’t—run off probably starved. Rhodey’s never been much of a pet person himself, but the thought of finally coming home after a month of absolute hell and finding the family cat or dog dead on the floor pierces his heart.

Though some people, notably families, appear to be out walking just for the sake of getting air like Tony and Rhodey are, it’s not the same kind of carefree recreation and movement as before. There aren’t people carrying boutique shopping bags, jogging with earbuds in, riding bikes. Children are quieter than usual, everyone has a slightly haunted look even beneath their smiles and laughter—which come more rarely than they used to. Even if they wanted to forget everything that had happened, passing by the occasional destroyed building or pile of wreckage would make that impossible.

They walk by an abandoned tank down a side road that’s been blocked off and is being used as a temporary dumping ground for debris, and Rhodey realizes something. With the military essentially obliterated in the invasion, they’d left behind a considerable amount of property that now belonged to no one and wasn’t regulated or accounted for. Human nature is human nature, and he has no doubt that any dropped weapons—human or alien—have long since been picked up and taken back to people’s homes. He spends a moment wondering whether there’s alien tech out there that’s potentially dangerous and needs to be taken care of, and another wondering how long it’ll be before people start forming militias and then full militaries again. Before they get over the camaraderie of a worldwide disaster and start warring with each other again. He promptly shoves both ideas to the back of his mind—this day is supposed to be a vacation, and he shouldn’t be spending it thinking about things like that. He’ll bring those thoughts up later, as they become relevant, but not now.

Even with all the obvious differences since the invasion, though, it’s incredible how fast some things have gone back to normal. The human capacity for resilience and recovery really is amazing. It’s particularly clear when they get into parts of the city that were hit a little less in the battles, where people are living and working again, where stores have opened back up and are starting to take money, where streets are cleared and there’s some general traffic, not just construction crews and buses still taking people back to their own states and countries.

They pass by several food vendors, which makes Rhodey smile. They’re giving out what they’re making for free, but nearly everyone who’s taking something is leaving money or something else of value for the people working. They walk past the first and second, but the third is an ice cream truck with a jovial man handing out popsicles to a small crowd of children gathered around him, refusing to take money from their parents. As Rhodey and Tony draw near, Rhodey sees a boy at the front of the crowd catch sight of them, eyes wide, and turn to frantically whisper to the man in the truck, hands cupped around his mouth in the universal childhood gesture of sharing a secret.

The man hands him several popsicles, and he turns to dodge his way through the other kids and make a beeline for Rhodey and Tony. The kid can’t be more than six, with a thick head of brown hair that reaches his shoulders. Rhodey briefly wonders whether it grew long during the invasion and hasn’t been cut since then, then thinks how sad it is that he’s framing everything in terms of the invasion now, even for children.

The boy approaches them, eyes wide with innocent wonder as he looks up at Tony. Rhodey feels a half-second flash of apprehension, wondering how Tony, still unable to feel much beyond grief, will react to this child. But he has no reason to worry. The boy stops right in front of Tony, stares for a few seconds, then says, “Mister Iron Man?” and holds out one of his popsicles, bright red like the Iron Man suit he obviously remembers.

Tony hesitates for less than a second before crouching down to the boy’s level and reaching out to take the popsicle from him. The boy gives him a wide, delighted smile, then turns to Rhodey to hold out the second of his three popsicles, keeping the last one for himself. Rhodey’s half surprised—he’s pretty sure the kid doesn’t recognize him—but smiles just as wide and reaches to take it with a cheerful “thanks!” to make the child smile.

Just as he says it, a man that must be the boy’s father comes rushing forward from the other side of the crowd. “Kevin!” he says, catching sight of the boy, but the slightly reprimanding tone of a parent whose child wandered off is eclipsed by the relief Rhodey can hear in his voice. The invasion has set them all on edge; he can’t possibly imagine what it was like to be a parent through all of that, to have the awareness of how quickly, how easily your child can be taken from you be pressed on you so thoroughly by unending death and misery. Losing sight of them for even a few seconds now must be terrifying.

The father scoops Kevin up, then seems to register who he’s looking at and stops short with a surprised look. He’s staring at Tony, who rises back to his feet, still looking at Kevin. “Oh, hello, I…” the father starts, but he doesn’t say anything else, apparently too stunned just by Tony’s presence.

Tony glances down at the popsicle he’s been handed and then back at the boy. “Thank you, Kevin,” he says softly, and Kevin giggles. 

Tony turns away and steps back, breaking the spell, and Rhodey looks up at them both. “Thanks, Kevin, that was very nice of you,” he tells the boy, then nods at the father. “Sorry to have distracted him,” he says with a rueful smile.

The father blinks rapidly, expression still more stunned than anything else. He glances once at Tony and back at Rhodey. “Oh, it’s—you don’t have to apologize, he—” he trails off and Rhodey gives him a last smile and turns back to follow Tony, sparing the man from having to come up with any more words.

They head around a different corner, avoiding distracting any more kids. Rhodey sees Tony look down at the popsicle, shrug, and start eating it, and finally gives in to the urge to laugh out loud. When Tony gives him a questioning look, he just smiles fondly at him and starts eating his own. “That kid was better at talking to you than his dad,” he observes, chuckling, then adds, “I thought you weren’t much of a popsicle guy.”

Tony shrugs again. “It would be rude not to eat it,” he says simply, “and I thought everyone liked frozen sugar,” which makes Rhodey laugh once more.

They move to the shaded canopy of a closed storefront and settle back to eat; Rhodey can’t eat and move at the same time, not with something so potentially messy if it begins to melt. They spend some time in companionable silence just people-watching. Tony, with his glowing marks, sticks out standing in the shadows even more obviously than he does in the sunlight and Rhodey sees several people glance their way, turn to nudge and whisper to companions, or try to surreptitiously take pictures of him, but he doesn’t seem to care.

They walk on some more when they’ve finished, moving through mostly the same scenery they’ve already witnessed. It’s odd, how quiet it is even in the middle of what used to be—and still is, now, just by different standards—one of the busiest parts of the city. The sounds of traffic are muted with so few vehicles on the road, and even the ever-present construction noise isn’t enough to make up for it. The hundreds of voices that used to be competing on every block are now a couple dozen at most.

A few blocks down, Rhodey starts to hear faint music. From the tilt of his head, Tony hears it too, and they share a glance before heading in that direction, curious. The relative quiet on the streets means they have to travel nearly half a block before they find it, sounds traveling farther now than they used to before being swallowed up by the ambient noise of the city.

They round a corner to find the music and it takes Rhodey a moment to understand what he’s looking at. They’re in front of a field of rubble strewn over a cracked foundation and a broad set of once-elegant steps that now lead to nowhere—all that’s left of the building that was once here. But the debris is practically hidden underneath the items people have laid down here. 

There are flowers, hundreds or maybe thousands of them. In contrast to the usual vibrant colors and varieties of florist-purchased arrangements, these are all native wildflowers, clearly picked up around the city from where they’ve been growing in cracks and planters and open fields for months, free from humans calling them weeds and pulling them out. They create a beautifully cohesive blanket of just a few bright colors across the ground.

Interspersed among the flowers are other items: pictures, some framed and some loose, but also personal items left by those who didn’t have a picture to contribute to this mass memorial, or maybe people who wanted to keep what pictures they had for themselves, or who couldn’t bear to look at the trinkets that used to belong to their loved ones. They move slowly along the edge of the steps and Rhodey sees everything from decorative statues to children’s toys to articles of clothing. He spots something sparkling near a mass of flowers and after a moment of squinting, realizes he’s looking at dozens of wedding rings laid out in a circle.

A sharp grief rises in him at the sight. Here are the personal reminders of everyone lost. Proof that they existed, not just in the haunted expressions of those they left behind, but the memories they made, feelings they created that were strong enough to bring the people who remember them to this spot, to take the time to put them to rest in some way even when so much has been lost. This is proof that the rising tide of loss and grief and pain hasn’t drowned everything out, that even with so much death and destruction, people haven’t lost hope entirely, haven’t lost sight of what it means to love and lose someone. On the whole, humanity might be putting aside everything that happened to move on and push forward, but they’ll still take the time out to remember why they’re doing it.

He wonders at the different emotions that have brought people here. The different reasons for laying down a tribute. He’s sure that many people are trying to be as close to a traditional memorial as possible, immortalizing the dead with physical reminders of them. But some of the people here have surely been looking to forget, trying to move forward without heavy grief weighing them down. Perhaps some people came to try to purge the reminders of those they lost, hoping that by leaving behind their wedding ring or their baby’s toys, they could also leave behind the memories and the all-consuming grief, have some hope of ever moving on with their lives. He wonders if it really worked for any of them.

It strikes him suddenly, the thought of what he’d be doing now without Tony. If somehow this miraculous freedom had come, but without his best friend back among them—maybe if Tony had died defeating Thanos. It’s almost too painful to wonder whether he’d have found his way here, maybe plucked a flower from a crack in the sidewalk and laid it down here for Tony. He didn’t have anything else of Tony’s.

Then a spike of shame goes through him. There are plenty more people he could be honoring here, even with Tony alive. Pepper, Vision, any of his friends in the military, even anyone they know who hasn’t yet been accounted for and might well be dead. He thinks for a moment that he’s been remiss in his expression of grief, putting all of them aside to focus on Tony. Tony is his best friend, his brother, and there’s no one he’d rather be with now, but everyone else had mattered just as much, and he should still feel their loss.

But he _does_ feel it, he realizes quickly. The brief moment of shame fades as he ponders why he hasn’t been thinking so much about them. They’re trying to move forward, move on, and he can’t afford to be preoccupied with what he’s lost. He hasn’t been neglecting their loss; he’s simply been focusing on what he still has. Keeping himself from sinking into despair by looking to the future and staying in the present. The thought makes him realize just how close he is to that edge—Tony is just about the only thing he has left, and without him, he might very well have drowned by now in the memories and the grief. 

The thought sends a vague, unformed anxiety through him at the idea of the loss of Tony, strong enough that he’s suddenly seized by the urge to reach out and make physical contact. He keeps his eyes on the memorial, but feels the warm pressure of Tony’s hand in his the moment he reaches out, and wonders if Tony is thinking any of the same things he is.

As he takes Tony’s hand, he suddenly becomes aware again of the music that drew them here. There’s a girl standing at the other end of the steps, eyes closed and playing a violin. She can’t be more than twenty, and Rhodey wonders what brought her here, who she lost—because everyone has lost someone, and though visitors like Tony and Rhodey might be sharing in the music she’s creating, he’s sure this is her gift to someone they don’t know.

There are a few others drifting by the memorial. Nearly everyone stops for a time, to listen to the violinist, look at the gifts laid out, or to stoop and add their own flowers or treasures to the mix. Rhodey’s not quite sure how long they stay there, listening to one song become another and looking over this expression of human emotion, resilience, memory, and solidarity.

A mother and son walk by and Rhodey watches them. They approach the memorial, and the woman bends down to place a framed photograph, around which her son arranges several flowers. Rhodey can’t see the photograph, can’t tell who it is they’re mourning. Perhaps the father, or maybe another child. They spend a moment crouched at their addition, private in their grief, and then they move toward the girl playing the violin. She doesn’t stop playing when they approach her or when the mother leans in to say something to her, but she nods. When she finishes the melody she’s currently playing, she takes a short pause before beginning again, and Rhodey immediately recognizes _Amazing Grace_.

The mother and her son stand near the violinist and look back at the photo they put down, quietly singing along. Rhodey can barely hear them, but then another man behind them joins in, then a woman beside him, and another. Rhodey finds himself singing with them as well, drawn in by the now growing crowd made cohesive by music and shared emotions.

He’s almost, but not quite, surprised when he looks up and sees Tony singing along as well. The sad expression he always wears now is there with intensity, but there’s a soft aspect to it that Rhodey would almost call _good_. It’s not the consuming, directionless grief that was all he’d been able to feel when he’d first been resurrected. This is more like the sadness on his face when he’d cried over Pepper. It’s a very human emotion.

The crowd isn’t exactly large, maybe twenty people at most gathered and singing with them, but it feels all the larger for the solidarity of the moment. When they reach the end of the last verse it falls quiet, people looking over at the memorial and lost in their thoughts. There’s a few moments of silence before the violinist starts up her own melancholy song again. Slowly, people begin to drift away, and eventually, by some unspoken agreement, Rhodey and Tony turn and head back as well.

They take a different route through the city and back to the Tower, seeing new people and buildings and projects. It’s a good reminder of the life still in the world, after being at the site of so much grief and loss. He hadn’t meant for their “vacation day” to take a detour into that kind of territory, but he thinks—for him, at least—it was freeing, in a way. A good expression of emotions, and a reminder of their humanity. 

Tony’s quiet for a while, but he doesn’t have that pinched, exhausted expression that he gets when he’s feeling overwhelmed, so Rhodey doesn’t bother him. They move in thoughtful silence for at least an hour, back to people-watching and thinking and just… existing. They come across several more food stands and open restaurants and eventually, when Rhodey realizes that they’ve been out most of the day and the sun is starting to get a little lower in the sky, he proposes the idea of getting dinner out here. They’d skipped lunch, not that Rhodey had really missed it when they were busy. Tony agrees and they end up buying something fried and wrapped from a street vendor who’s set up across from a small park, where several people are scattered around, sitting on the grass and eating or just talking.

It’s a little difficult to maneuver his chair across the grass, particularly since it hasn’t been tended for months and has grown long and wild, but they find a relatively clear spot and Tony sinks down to lean against his legs and eat. While they can still see the road and everything around them, the longer grass and the quiet scene give an illusion of tranquil privacy that relaxes Rhodey—and Tony too, if the way he slowly leans more and more into Rhodey is any indication.

They’ve been finished with their food and just sitting for a few minutes when Tony half-turns to look at him. “Thank you,” he says, gazing around the park, “for suggesting this. For pulling me out. It was good to take a day off from worrying about…everything. You were right, I needed it.” He sighs and closes his eyes when Rhodey’s hand reaches forward to stroke through his hair.

Rhodey smiles softly, fondly. “Good. I’m glad it helped.”

He feels like he could stay in this moment forever. But there’s still a world out there that needs to be faced, to be helped, and once this day is over they’ll have to go back to it. It’s work, but it’s not a burden. While he might wish in some moments that he could take Tony off somewhere peaceful forever, where he would be free from expectations and harsh realities, they could never actually do that, not while the world still needed them. Neither one of them was ever one for inaction, and they’re not old enough to retire yet, however much it might feel like it some days.

They eventually get up and finish the walk back to the Tower. Their shadows are stretching long across the ground and the sky is just starting to darken as they make it back. Rhodey almost sends Tony up to their floor alone and stops to check on some of their guests, but tells himself not to; he knows they’re fine, and it’s still their day off. SI, work, the state of the world—it’s all something to be worried about _tomorrow_. When Tony starts to ask about checking on messages he’s gotten, Rhodey firmly tells him as much, and they agree to leave everything for tomorrow.

They spend the evening in the lounge adjacent to their room, reading and chatting and doing nothing important, a perfect end to the day. It’s when Rhodey’s cleaning up a set of cards from the table and Tony has headed into their bathroom to brush his teeth that one of Rhodey’s legs gives a jolt so strong he could swear he sees it twitch. 

He spends a minute just staring at it, feeling a sort of tingling running down his thigh. He’s almost afraid to try and move it, suspended in the moment and wondering what might happen. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until it comes out in a sigh when he tries to move the leg and nothing happens. He sags in the chair, shaking his head at himself. He’s not sure what he was expecting. Even if he really is healing, it’s going to be a slow process, not some sort of sudden miracle.

He puts the cards away, wheels into the bedroom, and stops outside the closed bathroom door, waiting for Tony to finish so he can go in and get ready for the night. But when he drops his hands into his lap and sits back, he feels one of them hit his thigh, and that has him jerking his back upright again and staring down, wide-eyed, at his own leg. Slowly, cautiously, he runs his hand again over his thigh, and almost cries at the weak feeling of pressure. He’s definitely not imagining it.

It’s more tingling than anything, and it fades after a minute even as he keeps poking and rubbing at the thigh, but it was there, real and present and absolute. He lets out a silent, incredulous laugh and sits back. There isn’t much he can do with this except wait and see what else comes of it, but it’s bolstering his hopes, his confidence that this really is progress and the doctors weren’t wrong.

He hears the toilet flush and the water run and shut off again, and his mind is caught in a brief war between two instincts. Part of him wants to shout the news to Tony the second he emerges from the bathroom, to share in this joy and give Tony something to be happy about and look forward to as well. It’s the same part of him that’s wanted to tell Tony all along, ever since he went to the doctors about his tingling feelings, and the part that’s felt guilty for keeping it from him since then.

But the more rational part of him still doesn’t think it’s a good idea. A few seconds of sensation were great, but they weren’t proof of anything. If he tells Tony about the good news, he’ll have to tell him everything else, too. All the confusion and worry and fear he’s felt about the entire thing. How no matter how much he logically knows that he won’t just wake up one morning able to walk, he can’t stop some small, stupid part of his brain from _hoping_ so intensely every time he starts to feel something, then devolving into bitter disappointment when it inevitably fades. He doesn’t want to confess to Tony how upset it’s making him to see how thin his legs have become in months of disuse—how he’s starting to really _look_ like someone who’s bound to a wheelchair—not until he also has some definitive good news to tell Tony as well. Something more substantial than random bouts of sensation.

So he takes a deep breath and relaxes back into a neutral expression. He keeps the hope and joy and the fear and pain to himself, and when Tony comes out, Rhodey greets him with nothing more than the fond smile he usually does and moves into the bathroom to get himself ready for bed. All this worry is yet another thing to be dealt with tomorrow.

When he pulls himself into bed later that night and Tony scoots over to wrap himself around him, head on Rhodey’s shoulder and octopus-limbs holding him hostage, Rhodey finally relaxes completely and shuts his eyes. All their problems can be dealt with later. This was a day to just relax and focus on the little things, and he should be thinking about that, not worrying about the future. They’ll face it as it comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I’m posting this on Memorial Day in the US, which was completely unintended but appropriate.


	18. Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, anyone who reads my other stuff too has probably noticed that I posted several new stories during my couple of weeks off between Step and the start of rotations, but ignored this one. Sorry about that. I was riding a wave of bitterness that made me want to write some extra salty stuff, and also this chapter really didn’t want to be written. I finally had to sit and force myself to write it, so I’m sorry if some of it doesn’t flow well, I’m still not entirely happy with it, but I got into it once I’d started.

It’s only been a few days since the Tower was finished when Rhodey gets another call from his mother. They’ve been focusing in on SI operations now, already starting to get some basics out to people from their factories, and Tony is doing a good job of taking over. His employees are at least professional enough to treat him like they used to, allowing him to do his job as head of the company without too much trouble.

Rhodey's mom tells him that she’s back at her house, which thankfully wasn’t hit in the invasion. No damage in the neighborhood except what the elements did over the weeks they were all gone, with some windows and even doors left open when Thanos’s minions came and cleared the houses. Some of the neighbors haven’t come home and likely won’t, but for the most part, they’re all still alive, and now they’re back home and trying to move on, move forward like everyone else. She assures him that he has no reason to worry, that everyone who’s still alive is even closer in the aftermath of the invasion, and taking care of each other.

Still, Rhodey spends a while anxiously questioning her about her safety, how the house is holding up, how they’re getting food and supplies, every detail he can think of. She answers his questions with the indulgent patience of a mother. He’s so insistent that she barely gets in any questions of her own, which he doesn’t realize the consequences of until later. 

Rhodey asks again if she wants them to come down there—to visit, not to stay, he’s sure to say, what they’re doing in New York is too important to leave even to be with his mother, and she understands—and this time she says yes. With there not being too serious a schedule yet for them, they can go any time so long as Tony is ready, so he tells her they’ll be down in a few days, a week at most, and he goes to tell Tony the news.

Tony is oddly reluctant when Rhodey tells him they can visit his mother. Not that Tony expresses happiness or excitement now, but Rhodey can tell when he wants something, and he can tell now that Tony is hesitant. “What’s wrong?”

Tony gives him a look that Rhodey thinks is vaguely guilty. “Are you sure bringing me there is a good idea?” he says quietly, gesturing generally to himself.

“Oh.” That doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s not nice to hear. “Tony, you know my mom loves you like her own son. This, anything that’s changed about you, it’s not going to matter to her any more than it does to me.”

Tony just keeps his eyes on the ground. “She’s not around me all the time like you are. I know she loves me, but you’ve seen how other people react to me. Even people who work with me, who respect me. I can’t blame them, I don’t, but… you’re the exception, you’re more understanding than anyone else would be, and I just…” There’s a pause and Tony takes a deep breath, then finally looks up at Rhodey. “Maybe it’s better for her to remember me, you know, like I was.”

That brings a lump up in Rhodey’s throat, but also something fierce. “So are you going to avoid her forever? You shouldn’t hide away from people who care about you, Tony. Give them a chance to show you that what’s happened to you doesn’t matter. You’re still you.”

He says it a little more harshly than he means to; maybe a tiny part of it is protectiveness of his mother, automatic rejection of the idea that she would think any less of Tony now than she did before. But at the same time… he can’t deny that it might be true. His mother loves Tony, there’s no doubt about that, but she doesn’t know him like Rhodey does. He knows he’s uncommonly understanding of Tony’s emotional problems, and it’s quite possible, as much as it hurts to think it, that his mom might not be. Tony won’t smile at her, won’t laugh, won’t be visibly happy to see her, and that could hurt all of them.

But he stands by what he said to Tony. He can’t hide away from people who love him. Maybe it will take some adjustment, but he needs to give that chance to people. Others can and will get used to the changes to Tony, but they need the opportunity to do so. He understands that it’s not exactly fair to Tony, to ask him to just bear through the beginning of every repaired relationship, the weeks or months or whatever it takes for people to stop looking at him like some kind of alien and start seeing him as _Tony_ again. It’s not fair to him, but… when has the world ever been fair to Tony? 

He tries to soften his voice and his expression when he sees how Tony is looking back at the ground. “If you really don’t want to go, Tony, I’m not going to try to force you. And I’m not going to be mad at you. But if you do, then I’d appreciate you coming with me.”

Something softens in Tony’s face too, and though he still looks a bit unsure, he nods. That brings warmth into Rhodey’s chest, to know that Tony is willing to do this for him even if he’s not absolutely sure about it.

He hadn’t necessarily thought of it before, but it’s a good thing that Tony is coming, because Rhodey can’t drive in his condition. There’s no shortage of people who would be willing to drive Rhodey down to Georgia, of course, but not any that he knows well or would really feel that comfortable with on the journey. 

The one person who might have been willing and was close enough to them for Rhodey not to feel awkward was Happy, but that’s not an option. They’ve tried, a few times, to get hold of Happy—as have several SI people—and had no success. As far as Rhodey knows, he was in the city when the invasion began, so they’ve been forced to conclude that he’s probably dead. It’s painful to admit, and it brings a sort of despairing sadness to Rhodey, probably to Tony too. It’s been months now since the end of the invasion. They’re trying their hardest to move forward, but these reminders of everything they’ve lost keep coming up. How long will it be before they no longer receive more news of dead friends?

He could blame the stress he’s under, the many distractions, or any number of things for how long it takes to realize something important. They’re already in the car and outside the city when Rhodey jerks forward in his seat with an “oh, shit!”

Tony, at least, doesn’t swerve or panic or crash the car at Rhodey’s exclamation. Rhodey had been a little worried about Tony on a long drive in his state, with the way he can sometimes be distracted and slow to process still, but he’s been entirely attentive and reactive to the road so far. At Rhodey’s outburst, he glances over before focusing back on the road. “What’s wrong?”

Rhodey puts his face in his hands. “My mom… she hasn’t seen me since at least six months before the invasion.” 

It doesn’t take Tony more than a few seconds to get it. “Oh,” is all he says, and Rhodey groans.

“The invasion started just a few days after I went to the hospital. In all the confusion, with everything that was happening with you, and Rogers, and then Thanos… no one ever called her to tell her I’d been injured. We’ve talked on the phone twice since then, but I never told her. I just… didn’t think of it.”

“Well,” Tony says cautiously, “you had other things to worry about.”

“Shit,” is all Rhodey says. Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. He’s not going to call his mother from the car to deliver the news of his injury; he’ll have to just deal with it in person when they get there. It’s almost hard to believe that he’s become so used to it by now that he didn’t even think to tell his mother when she called him, but Tony’s right. He really did have much more important things to worry about.

The ride isn’t too long. After leaving early in the morning, it’s about twelve hours to his mom’s place. There’s a few slowdowns along the way where roads have been destroyed or blocked off, but the lack of traffic most of the way more than makes up for it, and they make good time, getting there just as the sun is starting to sink low in the sky. Rhodey spends some of the ride contemplating what he’s going to tell his mom about his own injury, and also about Tony. They agreed before they left that they’ll have to tell her some of the details about Tony—Rhodey trusts her not to go spreading rumors about Tony and his emotions, but if they’re going to spend a day with her and be close to her, she’s obviously going to notice that something’s off with Tony. They won’t be able to get away with the professional distance and awe over Tony’s appearance and powers that’s been keeping most people so far from noticing that he never smiles or laughs anymore.

The neighborhood is maybe a little quieter than it should be, but it’s oddly peaceful and normal-looking. There was some destruction, some debris, some evidence of the invasion on the way out here, but this is a very suburban area. Compared to NYC, where they can’t go half a block without some large, obvious reminder of the invasion, out here he can see how it would be… maybe not easy, but easier to forget what’s happened. He hopes it’s doing some good for his mother.

They pull up in the driveway and Tony gets out first, heading around the car to grab Rhodey’s chair out of the back and open it up next to the passenger door. As Rhodey starts to pull himself out of the car and into it, he hears the front door of the house open. Tony gives him a furtive glance and goes around the back of the car to get their bags, either to put off the meeting for a little longer or just to give Rhodey a moment to greet his mom alone and give her the news about his injury.

He wheels himself around the other side of the car and over to the porch just as his mother is coming down the steps, and some heavy weight is immediately lifted off his shoulders at the sight of her. He’s spoken to her on the phone, of course, and knew intellectually that she was okay, but seeing her is different, it’s a confirmation that he needed. Maybe it’s also just the plain comfort of being around his mom, a basic happiness that will never diminish, no matter how old he gets.

She’s lost a little weight, not surprising considering the invasion, but she still looks healthy, whole, and as bright as ever. Whatever he’d thought about his reaction goes out the window and tears prick his eyes as she comes down the steps toward him without hesitation. “Mom,” he croaks out as she approaches.

Then she’s there, bending down in front of him and taking his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks before wrapping her arms around him. Sitting here, hugging his mom, it feels for at least a moment like he could forget everything wrong with the world.

She pulls back and looks him over. “Oh James, honey, it’s so good to have you here,” and if he’d felt any trace of embarrassment at nearly crying over seeing his mom, he’s gratified by the shine of tears in her eyes as well. He sees her look over his chair, but she doesn’t say anything about it right away, instead leaning back and announcing that he “needs to eat more.”

He chuckles at that and shakes his head as she straightens and looks around. “Now where’s that scrawny kid of yours?” she says a little louder, and Rhodey suppresses a smile at the words. She’s always referred to Tony as his kid, ever since the first time he’d brought him home during a break at MIT. Never mind that Tony was only a few years younger than him; he had, in fact, been scrawny as a kid, not to mention shorter than even other kids his own age, and with Rhodey’s mother’s tendency to want to feed everyone in sight at all times, she’d latched onto Tony in no time.

Rhodey hears the trunk of the car close and keeps his eyes on his mother’s face as Tony comes around the car with their bags. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of him, the shock obvious on her face. He’s not sure whether she might have already seen a picture of Tony on the internet, but even if she has, a picture can’t compare to the real thing. The dusk starting to fall over the neighborhood is just making Tony appear to glow even brighter, Rhodey knows. Still, despite her obvious shock, his mom hitches a large smile onto her face and steps forward to greet Tony. 

“There you are, sweetheart, how are you?” She pulls him into a hug as soon as he’s close enough, even though the bags he’s holding over his shoulder mean he can only return the hug with one arm. 

“Hello, Mrs. Rhodes,” he says quietly, and Rhodey hears her tsk at him as she pulls back.

“What am I, your ninth grade teacher?” She says it like a fond joke, but Rhodey can already see the hint of confusion and hesitance in her face, and that means Tony probably can, too. Rhodey can see her becoming more unsure as the seconds tick by and Tony doesn’t offer her so much as a smile.

“Sorry, Roberta,” Tony says, just as quiet, but it does seem to soften her a little bit. She gestures them inside, and Rhodey’s too busy now worrying about how to approach the subject of what’s happened to Tony to pay much attention to how closely she’s watching them as Tony helps pull his chair up the porch steps and into the house.

It’s a small house and maneuvering his chair through the halls is a little tough, but they manage. When they get into the kitchen, she’s already directing them to sit and placing steaming plates heaped with food in front of them. Tony moves the chair in front of one of the spots so Rhodey can pull his chair up, and soon they’re all settled down and eating.

Tony eats better now than he did when the invasion first ended, but still not nearly as much as he used to. Rhodey hopes his mother doesn’t take it as an insult, but he can see her watching Tony with concern through the first few quiet minutes of the meal. Finally, it seems she can’t resist any longer, and she reaches over to put her hand over Tony’s. It puts Rhodey on edge, knowing Tony can’t be completely comfortable with it and wondering if he’s going to pull away, but he doesn’t. 

Still, his mom must see the slight stiffening of his posture, because she asks, “what’s wrong, honey?”

Tony swallows and looks over at her. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and Rhodey resists sighing at the automatic apology. Not that he didn’t already see the signs, but the tendency to revert to apology is just further proof that Tony’s not entirely comfortable here. “Nothing is wrong.”

His mother doesn’t look convinced. “You’ve looked upset since you got here, baby. Is it something I did?”

Rhodey leans forward at that, seeing that this is headed down a bad path. His mom is taking it personally, and he can tell that Tony’s already withdrawing at being so directly questioned, and he needs to interfere. “Mom, no,” he says, and she turns to him, moving her hand off of Tony’s.

“Look, there’s a lot to Tony’s, um, resurrection that you don’t know about,” he says, glancing at Tony, who looks more relieved than anything that Rhodey is taking over the explanation. “We didn’t want to tell you over the phone, or just spring it on you as soon as we got here, but there’s things you need to know.” He glances again at Tony before focusing on his mom’s face once more. “And so you know, this needs to stay between us. No one can know, not even your most trusted friend or neighbor, not your doctor, not anyone, okay?”

She nods seriously. “I told you, I know how rumors spread, honey.” She looks over at Tony again. “So what is it you haven’t told me?”

Rhodey gives a modified explanation. He leaves out some of the details, personal bits and things he just doesn’t think she needs to know. Tony doesn’t contribute much, which Rhodey doesn’t mind. And maybe he makes it sound like he’s more confident than he really is about Tony’s emotional progress and the future ahead of them. But he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that, especially when he sees the hesitance still present in his mom. If he’s exaggerating how sure they are of the progress, it’s just making his mom a little more confident that Tony will improve.

She looks sad when she gets up to embrace Tony after he’s done explaining, which is expected, but it disturbs Rhodey a bit. Because it’s the kind of sadness that comes with something permanently lost, not something changed. It hurts a little to think that his mom is looking at Tony like he’s a completely different person. He doesn’t want the two of them to be less than close, and he definitely doesn’t ever want to feel like he has to choose between the comfort or defense of one or the other.

He tries to put aside the worries, telling himself that it won’t do any good, and anyway, they’ve only been here for a few hours at this point. He can’t expect his mom to take all this in and be perfectly fine with it immediately. Still, they’re going to head back tomorrow morning—they can’t be away from SI and their responsibilities for very long—and things are going to have to move quickly.

He’s distracted from thoughts of Tony when they’re cleaning up after dinner, and his mom finally turns to him with her hands on her hips, staring down at his chair. “So, James, you didn’t tell me you’d been injured,” is what she leads with, and Rhodey feels heat creeping up his cheeks at the accusation and the guilt it brings up in him, knowing she’s right. He doesn’t really have an excuse for not telling her earlier. She gestures at his chair. “How long is this for?” 

His heart sinks immediately. Oh god, he hadn’t even thought of this, that the reason his mother hadn’t said anything earlier, why she hadn’t freaked out when they’d arrived and she’d first seen her son in a wheelchair, is that she’d assumed it’s temporary. His throat is tighter when he opens his mouth again. “Mom,” he starts, and feels even worse when her face falls at his expression. She must be able to see in his face that this isn’t good news. “This isn’t… this isn’t temporary, mom. I’m paralyzed. I can’t… I’m not getting out of this chair.”

His mom’s face twists and he can see the tears forming, and now he can’t stop his own eyes from starting to water either. She kneels in front of him and takes hold of his shoulders. “Oh Lord, James, you don’t mean that?”

“I’m sorry, mom,” he manages. “When you called and we talked, I just… I forgot to mention it. I guess I’m already used to it, and there were so many other things to ask about, I just…”

She bites her lip and looks down at his legs and back up again. “How do you know, how can you be sure? Have you seen the doctors, with how busy they are? Maybe they missed something—?” 

The denial isn’t unexpected, but Rhodey turns away. “This wasn’t—this didn’t happen in the invasion, mom. It was right before it. When everything was normal. They were sure.”

“Before the invasion?” His mom’s voice is incredulous, and he winces, looking back at her.

“Just a few days before, mom. It was that fight, between the Avengers. I was unconscious for a while, and then when I woke up, Tony was missing, then he turned up dead, and then the invasion was just a couple days after that. I’m so sorry, I just… there was so much happening, I never got a chance to call you and tell you about it.”

Now it’s her turn to look away, at the floor. He sees a few tears fall, which just makes him feel worse than ever as she processes this. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she finally says, practically a whisper. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

His own tears fall for real now. He leans forward to hug her again. “Please don’t be sorry, mom. It’s not your fault, there’s nothing you could have done about it, and honestly, after everything? After the invasion? It’s not even that big of a deal anymore. I know I’m lucky as all hell that you’re still alive and okay. I can’t exactly complain about this when my mom’s still here.”

She gives him a watery smile and pulls away, but he can tell she’s not over it. Not that he can expect her to be, not this quickly, but he _wants_ her to be. He wants her to not cry over him, to not be upset about Tony. He just wants everything to be okay, but he knows he can’t have that, not without time and a ton of work.

They move onto slightly happier topics of conversation—and Tony, who’d edged out of the room to give them privacy when his mom had started asking about his injury, comes back to join them. They talk the rest of the night away, mostly Rhodey and his mom with Tony occasionally contributing, sitting close to Rhodey and making a little less eye contact than usual, but not too stiff or visibly uncomfortable. It gets late faster than it feels like it should, but he supposes being around his mom, around one of the few people he’s very close to who’s still alive after the invasion, is making the time fly by.

His mother has lived alone for the last eight years since his dad died, and she moved quickly into this smaller house after it happened, looking for something easy to manage. There’s one guest bedroom behind his mom’s, which Tony and Rhodey have already shared a few times since she moved in, when Rhodey had managed to get Tony away from work long enough to come visit with him. They’ve been sharing rooms and beds without a problem for decades—which makes it all the weirder when his mom asks just one too many times whether they’re okay sharing.

They have to take turns in the one bathroom, so Rhodey hovers in the hallway while Tony is inside getting ready for bed. His mom, already in a nightgown, passes by on her way to her room and stops to give him a kiss and say goodnight. She smiles at him, but he can see the way her gaze lingers on his chair and the sadness lurking beneath her eyes. When she turns away from him, he hears a suspiciously wet sniff, and it absolutely breaks his heart.

Now more than ever, he’s tempted to just blurt out the truth. He’s never yet been so tempted to talk about his potential recovery, about the occasional feeling he’s getting back in his legs and everything it might mean. He could so easily call Tony out here and tell them both, put a smile back on his mother’s face and maybe give Tony a reason to start to feel some kind of hope, or at least see a personal benefit to his powers.

But it isn’t right, it’s not fair, for the same reasons he hasn’t told Tony yet. He’s still not sure at all. He hasn’t yet been back to the hospital since the bout of sensation he’d felt on the day he and Tony went out to see the memorial, so he doesn’t even have any kind of updated medical scans to show that he’s making quantifiable progress. For all he knows, the progress they saw at his first appointment has halted, and just took this long to show up noticeably in his body. He feels awful knowing his mother is crying over his situation, but he’d feel even worse making her think that he might someday walk again, only to find out that’s a lie. It’s the same for Tony, possibly even worse with his precarious emotional situation. Rhodey doesn’t want to make Tony think that he’s expecting some kind of miracle out of Tony—or that, by extension of that, he would be disappointed if Tony can’t actually heal him. So, tempting as it is to say anything he can to cheer his mother up, he stays quiet and tries to put it out of his mind.

They settle into bed without a problem and Tony’s asleep fairly quickly, which Rhodey is thankful for. After the long drive and some of the emotional ups and downs of the day, Rhodey also falls asleep fast, and wakes up feeling pretty refreshed. Tony also looks like he slept well, which is good. Rhodey’s been worried that Tony is upset about his mom’s slight hesitance around him, but Tony seems to be taking it mostly in stride the same way he does with everyone else back home. It’s a bit distressing to realize that Tony hasn’t found a second unconditional ally here like he has in Rhodey, but he supposes Tony already suspected this before they left. His mom will come around, and it’s not like she’s treating Tony like he’s diseased, just… not quite as warmly as she maybe used to.

His mom makes them breakfast early in the morning and fusses over them—mainly Rhodey—a bit more. Whatever the worries and problems they’ve encountered over the visit, the time to leave approaches too quickly, and part of Rhodey doesn’t want to leave. Even with his paralysis and Tony’s changes, this is a peaceful little bubble, away from the reminders of the invasion and everything that’s happened, all the responsibilities they have back in New York, the entire world resting on their—mostly Tony’s, though Rhodey is trying his best to share some of that burden—shoulders.

Tony goes out to pack their bags in the car, along with the mountain of homemade food and small gifts that his mom has insisted they take with them—where she got them, the time to make them, or the materials to do so is beyond him, but it doesn’t exactly surprise him.

While Tony’s out at the car, Rhodey’s mom pulls him aside, into the kitchen. She gives him a hug, then holds him by the shoulders and leans down to fix him with a serious look. “James, I know you’re going back no matter what and that your home’s back there, but I need to ask you something. Are you… are you _sure_ you feel safe with Tony?”

His shocked expression must be obvious, but he hopes she can’t see any of the slight anger in it. God, this is a nightmare, exactly what he was hoping wouldn’t happen. There’s leaden disappointment weighing his guts down, realizing that this is more than just hesitation. His mother really doesn’t think Tony is the same person. The changes to him are more than she can overcome. And maybe that’s not entirely true—he knows she still loves Tony, deep down, nearly as much as she loves Rhodey himself—but for her to actually be questioning Rhodey’s safety around Tony hurts him. He knows he’d rather cut one of his arms off than let Tony find out about this conversation.

“What do you mean?” he asks, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, hoping for an elaboration that might soothe some of his apprehension.

She obviously sees something in him, because her face immediately softens. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to insult you, or Tony, I promise it. It’s just… he’s so different, who knows what that Thanos or those stones did to him, and if he can’t even show any real emotions… how are you supposed to know what he’s thinking?” At Rhodey’s continued twisted expression, she adds, “And if you’re spending all your time taking care of him, who’s taking care of you?”

He drops his head and takes a deep breath. That’s… better. He knows she’s trying to backtrack a little, he doesn’t doubt that she’s still a little wary of Tony, and that upsets him, but it all comes from concern over him, her son, and he can hardly blame her for that. He looks back up and reaches up to grab onto her hands on his shoulders, doesn’t break eye contact, trying to show how much he means what he’s about to say. “Mom, I get it, I really do. Of course you’re concerned about me. But I _promise_ you, I’m absolutely safe with Tony. I’ve trusted him with my life for years and that hasn’t changed. And believe me, I might be taking care of him, but he’s taking care of me too. I know you’re worried, mom, but there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than wherever Tony is.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he wasn’t expecting her to. The soft, real smile she gives him is worth it, and he trusts that she’s understood him, that she at least believes that _he_ believes he has everything he needs with Tony. That’s all he really needs from her. As much as he will always love her and always take comfort in her being around, he is a grown man now, and he doesn’t need his mother to protect him or make decisions for him. She’s raised him well enough to be able to do that for himself, and now she needs to trust that he can.

“Okay, sweetheart,” she says, giving him another hug and stepping back. “Well, you take care of yourself, okay? And you take care of that boy, too. And maybe, someday, you can get your friend back.”

Before Rhodey can even begin to formulate a response to that, the door opens again; Tony is back, and his mom steps away so they can all move back into the entryway. They say their goodbyes, his mom treating Tony with as much sweetness as she has been since yesterday. Despite his dark thoughts about their last conversation, Rhodey hugs her tightly and promises to keep in touch. She waves them out the door and they begin the journey back home just as the sun is rising.

Once they’re back on the road, Rhodey’s mood drops and he goes back to brooding. He doesn’t blame his mother, exactly, but… it still hurts, what she said to him. The idea that she thinks that way of Tony, but more than that, that that’s how most people would react, at best, to the knowledge of what’s happened to Tony. It makes him feel lonely, and heavy with responsibility, knowing that he might very well be the only person left on the planet who won’t judge Tony for what’s happened to him.

But it really doesn’t change anything. After some thought, he comes to the understanding that his mother, for all she’s doted on Tony in the past, doesn’t know him the way Rhodey does, not as closely. She hasn’t been there with him through everything Rhodey has, she doesn’t know Tony inside and out the way he does. She just doesn’t know enough about him to see that he’s still the same person, despite his changes. She’s wrong: he already has his friend back.

Rhodey _knows_ , still as surely now as he did the first time Tony spoke his name after invasion ended, that this is still the same Tony. Even if he never regains all his emotions, he’ll still be the same person. Rhodey knows Tony loves him as much as he loves Tony, even if Tony has trouble expressing it. And whatever other people—even Tony himself—might think, it’s done nothing but make Rhodey more determined to prove what he already knows: that Tony, his Tony, is still here, right beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a very basic google search (again, not a comics person at all, I had to rely on the wiki) and apparently in at least one comic Mrs. Rhodes appears and her name is Roberta, so I used that here. For all I know it’s some weird alternate universe-clone-evil twin-etc., I don’t know, the comics are weird and have way too many timelines and crap going on (one reason I can’t get into them, not with my schedule), but that’s what I went with.
> 
> I hope no one hates me for making Rhodey’s mom a little wary of Tony. I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman, but she has to be concerned about her own son above all else, especially after the invasion. And realistically, I think most people would be a little uncomfortable around someone who doesn’t show emotions (except negative ones, at this point), even if it was someone they’d known for a long time. Rhodey is definitely uncommonly understanding of Tony.
> 
> I’ll be very busy in the hospital starting tomorrow but I’m happy to report that I’ve already at least started the next chapter, so I really hope it won’t be another month before I update this again. We were supposed to be getting out of the semi-depressing chapters by now and into happier stuff (and eventually actual plot), but it’s been taking me too long to write! But I swear, after one more not quite happy chapter, there’ll finally be some good things happening, and then we get into some actual plot-related Things happening too.


	19. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some things Rhodey still doesn’t know and needs to find out. I’m sure some of you noticed the little bit hinting towards this chapter that came a while back.

Less than a week after their visit to his mom, Rhodey and Tony get another important visitor, this time in the Tower.

They haven’t had much time yet to establish a routine with SI, but they’re settling well into their roles. Now that the Tower is finished, they have a lot more to do, and they’re getting more and more comfortable in their roles within the company. It’s really getting up and running now that they’ve got a lot of their employees—those who survived the invasion and are now in safe and relatively stable housing situations—back and working. 

They’ve really come together, despite their personal situations. Rhodey’s sure it helps that Tony and the company are paying extremely well, plus offering help with housing and rebuilding and anything else they might need, and that, in the end, everything the company is doing is coming right back around to help the general public. Still, the thousands of employees jumping back to work without hesitation have no obligation to do it, and it warms Rhodey’s heart to see them helping however they can.

He knows the expectations and responsibilities are just beginning. When they were spending most of their time on physical reconstruction, Rhodey became responsible for fielding requests for Tony’s time and presence. Watching out for Tony by making sure he wasn’t overextending himself or being asked too much. Now, it seems, that same duty is going to shift to SI. 

He’s already had a few people from R&D nervously approach him to ask about consulting on projects with Tony. The problem is that this time, Rhodey doesn’t quite know what to tell them, other than that Tony is busy trying to set up concrete structure within the company again and—this is true, but the excuse is starting to wear a little thin—is still recovering from Thanos. 

The truth is, he’s not sure what Tony thinks about the whole thing. Tony hasn’t even approached the topic of engineering or inventing since his resurrection, and Rhodey’s not sure why, but he feels strangely apprehensive about asking. Maybe he’s afraid that Tony’s answer will be a firm no; that Tony feels he’s lost that part of himself completely and doesn’t want it back. Or maybe he’s just worried that he’ll drive Tony to withdraw if he pushes him into something he’s not ready for.

Still, it’s just going to keep getting harder to avoid the subject. Practically everything Tony is known for revolves around his legendary mind, from being Howard Stark’s son to personally being responsible for a good percentage of SI’s most valuable products to being the creator and pilot of Iron Man. People hold certain expectations, and if he’s not going to meet them, he’s eventually going to have to give a good reason why.

Rhodey’s spent days trying to think of how to finally ask him about it when he’s interrupted by a visitor to their upper floors. That in itself is unusual, since security would usually just send visitors to an open conference room and call Rhodey or Tony down to them. Curious, Rhodey and Tony both make their way over to the open common space, where the elevator lets their guest out.

A stocky, grim-faced man walks up and introduces himself as Gordon Mornain. He gives Tony and Rhodey each a solid handshake and a respectful nod before getting right to the point. “I’m here to tell you that Barton, Rogers, and Romanoff have been moved into a max security upstate.”

Tony and Rhodey exchange glances at that. Rhodey’s not surprised, exactly; after all, one of the runners back in the first few days after Thanos, when they were back in the hotel, had told them the three were destined for prison once they were done working upstate. The announcement throws him a little off guard just because he’d nearly forgotten about the remaining former Avengers. Not that he can ever forget their betrayal, the clusterfuck that led to his injury or Tony’s death, but he doesn’t actively think about it, not regularly. He doesn’t care nearly enough about any of those bastards to waste his energy on them in any capacity. He’s so focused on the future with Tony that he doesn’t dwell much on the past these days.

“Already?” Tony asks, and Rhodey knows Tony’s thinking along the same lines as him. Though things are settled by leaps and bounds in comparison to immediately after the invasion, there’s still a hell of a lot of work to do, particularly out in the farmlands, where he’d last heard of the trio working. Not that prison isn’t right where they belong, but he’s surprised those in charge are not only using the resources necessary to keep prisoners incarcerated, but also wasting the prisoners’ potential labor.

Gordon nods. “We were already gettin’ the prison back up and running. Seems like a waste, I know, but people were starting to get settled enough to start gettin’ scared about a bunch of prisoners running around. I imagine not many folks care about that, but when your house is a half mile from the prison that used to lock up rapists and serial killers, you get worried.”

“Understandable,” Rhodey says. He supposes it would be hypocritical of him to want his former teammates in prison because they’d hurt him and his family personally, but not care as much about people who’d done the same to others. 

“We sorta lost track of everyone,” Gordon continues. “The prison yard was a camp during the invasion, but they brought in people from the whole area around it too, plus the guards and all were in there too. When it ended everyone left, and it’s not like the prisoners just volunteered to come back.”

Rhodey snorts at that. “But people started getting nervous about the worst of the criminals being out?”

Gordon nods again. “Yeah, so we started puttin’ a little effort into bringing at least the very worst of them back. Life sentences and violent crimes and stuff. We’ve got enough of the guards and officers back home now that we can run at least part of the prison.”

Tony’s been quiet, but he speaks up at that. “What about Rogers and the others? I know you said it’s a maximum security, but that’s meant for normal people. They could stage a breakout.”

Gordon shakes his head. “We’ve got them under extra guard and in the safest part of the prison, all in solitary, and in solid rooms. No bars to bend or break, and they go out for exercise alone except for the guards, not in a group with the rest of the prisoners. Don’t worry, we’ve definitely got them controlled.”

“Why now?” Rhodey asks, and sees Tony nod next to him, clearly wondering the same thing.

“Like I said, people are gettin’ a little more settled down, now. And word was spreading about where they were. The people working with them were already a touch uncomfortable, but they put up with it. But we were gettin’ mobs of outsiders forming, coming out and trying to find them, exact some vigilante justice. I don’t know that many people would really cry if any of them got killed, but it was interfering with productivity where they were working. They were more trouble than they were worth to keep out on the farms, so we took them to the prison. They ought to be grateful, it’s the only reason they’re still alive by now.”

They exchange a bit more information about the prison itself and Gordon gives them a phone number to contact the people in charge of their former teammates. Tony looks lost in thought, so Rhodey rolls forward to shake Gordon’s hand again. “Thank you for coming here to tell us, we really appreciate the update.”

“Of course. They suggested just calling up here, but considering… well, everything, we figured we should send someone in person.”

Tony steps forward to shake his hand again too, and then he’s gone. Now, after that visit, thoughts of anything but Rogers and his team have been banished from Rhodey’s mind for the time being. He’s pretty sure Tony’s feeling the same. Rhodey reaches over to put a hand on his elbow and Tony jerks his head up slightly like he’s snapping out of a trance, blinking down at Rhodey. 

They move into the next room over and Tony sits heavily on the couch, the faraway look back in his eyes. Rhodey carefully moves his chair around to be right in front of Tony, then reaches forward to put his hands on Tony’s knees. “So,” he says, and Tony sighs. “They’re in prison.”

Tony just looks at him for a minute. His expression is hard to decipher, but Rhodey worries, knowing how Tony tends to think. “Don’t tell me they don’t deserve it,” he warns.

Tony shakes his head. “No. They deserve it. They’re criminals, they broke laws of their own free will, they got innocent people killed. They _killed_ innocent people. Besides, it’s as much for their protection as other people’s. You heard Gordon, people were going to riot, to kill them themselves.”

Rhodey narrows his eyes, watching Tony carefully. “You don’t think they had a good enough reason?”

He knows he’s being unfair, unlike himself. He’s always been a believer in the justice system, and therefore in letting people have a fair trial, no matter what their crimes. If anything, it comes from an understanding of why rules and order are important. The right to a fair judgement has to be applied to everyone or it means nothing. Tying to single some people out for alternative justice leaves a blurry line that can be moved around and used to manipulate people, to push certain agendas, and it leads to all kinds of problems. Still, it’s so damn _hard_ to apply the same rules when it’s Tony they hurt, Tony and Rhodey himself. When it’s _his_ family that was torn apart, _murdered_. The month of hell and the long reconstruction ahead of them aren’t helping matters.

Tony must be able to read his mind, because he sighs again and looks at the floor. “The people coming after them have a reason, of course they do, but… they’re not thinking things through. It’s mob mentality, and it’s the stress of the invasion and the rebuilding, the strain on our resources, all the people who are dead. People aren’t thinking clearly.” 

“I don’t think it’s that unclear, what they did to you, or me, or anyone else they got hurt,” Rhodey says. He tries to keep his voice unchallenging, to make sure Tony knows this is just a discussion and that Rhodey won’t get mad at him for whatever he thinks. 

Tony shakes his head. “Maybe not, but it’s been… amplified, beyond normal, by what’s happened. Something like the invasion can make people act unbelievably kind, but it can also make them incredibly angry. People came together to help each other after the invasion, but now that it’s settling down and they’ve got their basic needs covered, they’ve got time to really think, and they’re mad.” 

Rhodey can understand that without issue. “That’s a pretty universal human reaction to big disasters.” 

“It is. They’re angry about what happened, how unfair it is, how awful. They’re upset and they want someone to blame. Thanos is obvious, but he’s dead. The aliens are gone. It’s hard to take your anger out on something dead, so they needed different targets. The closest they could find were the ‘heroes’ who were supposed to protect them and failed. So they’re criminals, yes, but there wouldn’t be this much anger towards them if the invasion had never happened. It’s not… well, fair isn’t the right word, but it’s not exactly all rational anger about what they’ve done.” 

Rhodey just sits and thinks about that for a minute. Before he can formulate a response, Tony is speaking again. “Really, having any small, unregulated group of people be in charge of protecting the planet, calling them ‘superheroes,’ was always a doomed system. I should have seen it from the start. I did, actually, but I ignored it because I wanted it to work so badly. But they’re just people. We all are. We all make mistakes. But when the world is elevating you to something more than just a regular human’s status, the expectations rise too. Sooner or later, you’ll make a mistake, and everyone who thought of you as ‘superhuman’ will be angry that you let them down. It was never going to work.” 

Rhodey is too distracted to enjoy the tiny glow of satisfaction at the fact that Tony is calling himself a human. He doesn’t like the implication of what Tony’s saying, the idea that it was a flaw in the system, not flaws in the ex-Avengers themselves, that caused the mess when they split. 

“I think that’s putting a little too much philosophy into it,” Rhodey says carefully. “Yes, maybe people are upset and looking for someone to be angry at, but it’s not like they’re just picking anyone. Maybe Rogers wasn’t responsible for the invasion, but he claimed to be a protector of the planet and then he _killed_ you. You, one of the most important superheroes, and the person who probably would have had the best chance against Thanos. People still remember New York, Tony, and you know _you_ were the one who won that fight. You’d already saved the world once and then Rogers murdered you. But even then, you came back and you saved everyone.” 

Rhodey is speaking passionately and realizes his voice is rising a little, so he sits back and takes a deep breath. “I don’t think people are angry because of some big picture ideal of superheroes that was ruined for them. They’re angry because millions of civilians are dead, their friends and families, while the people who wrecked the Avengers, failed to defend the planet, and killed the man who saved it are still alive.” 

Tony tilts his head, expression unreadable. “Maybe they are. But it’s still not exactly fair to them. The invasion made everything worse than it should have been.” 

A twisted feeling briefly numbs Rhodey’s fingers where they tighten on Tony’s legs. “Tony, you’re not defending them?” 

Tony looks away, but he shakes his head. “I’m not… defending them. Clint and Natasha, they went too far, they were irresponsible and reckless and they refused to take responsibility for it. And Steve was the worst of all of them. I—” He pauses and takes a shaky breath, looking back up at Rhodey. “If things had been different, if I’d lived through Siberia, I might have still tried to make it work. I… even after everything they did, I can still understand why they did it. They’re not _bad_ people, and god knows I’ve made too many mistakes myself to be judging them. But… well, however much it just made me _hurt_ and _sad_ instead of angry like Thanos wanted, what Steve did… I don’t think I have the capacity to forgive him, not anymore. Nothing like being betrayed and dying to really, permanently ruin a friendship.” 

Tony hunches in on himself with a shiver at that, and Rhodey reaches up instinctually to take his shoulders, rub at his arms to offer comfort. He can’t possibly imagine what it was like to die, at the hands of a supposed friend no less, and then to wake up again with the world and his own body so drastically changed. And while Rhodey can recognize on an intellectual level that Tony is right about Rogers and his gang not being inherently bad people, and that the world’s anger at them is maybe a little blown out of proportion because of the invasion, he’s still glad to hear that Tony doesn’t want to forgive the man who murdered him, or try to make amends with his former teammates. Because Rhodey’s seen how that goes, how “making amends” and “working together” worked after New York, after Ultron. It always seemed to involve Tony alone making sacrifices, working himself to the bone and giving everything to people who didn’t even thank him. 

Tony leans into Rhodey’s hands, then takes another shuddering breath and raises his head again. “I understand what you mean, about people being angry because they lived while others died, but not about me. I mean, I know I killed Thanos, but if I’d lived through Siberia, if I’d been alive when the invasion started, I couldn’t have stopped him. I probably would have died fighting him, and then Thanos would never have been stopped. So in a way, it was a good thing that I died when I did.” 

Rhodey sucks in a sharp breath at that and squeezes Tony’s shoulders nearly to the point of pain, making sure Tony’s bright eyes are absolutely focused on him. “No one could have predicted that,” he says fiercely. “Yeah, maybe the blind luck of the universe worked out so that you’re here now, so you got the chance to defeat Thanos because you weren’t here when he first came. But Rogers didn’t know that when he _killed you_. He couldn’t have known anything except that he was betraying a friend. Don’t give the bastard credit he doesn’t deserve.” 

Tony nods again, but his expression is so sad it physically hurts to look at. “It wasn’t even about me,” Tony whispers, looking down at his lap again, and Rhodey leans forward to tilt his chip up with one hand. 

“What do you mean?” 

Tony closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It was never about me, and I think that hurt the most. All he cared about was Barnes, the entire time. Even when he was watching…” Tony cuts himself off and swallows hard. “Howard was his friend, and he didn’t even care. It was only ever about Barnes.” 

Rhodey knows he’s missing something important. He remembers once before, when Tony was talking about how he died, he’d mentioned his parents, and Rhodey had been confused, but he hadn’t asked. Now, he needs to know. “Tony,” he starts, and when Tony looks at him, he knows Tony knows what he’s going to ask. “ _What happened_ in Siberia?” 

Tony blinks, tears finally spilling over, and Rhodey’s heart breaks for him. If he were more cowardly at heart, he wouldn’t want to know whatever Tony’s about to tell him. But Rhodey has always been one to face his problems head on, and as much as it might hurt to tell it, he hopes that Tony will find some peace in sharing this burden. 

“After you were hurt,” Tony starts, and his voice is already tight, choked, “I went to the Raft, to try to find out where Steve and Barnes went. Ross wanted them killed at that point. I was trying to find them so I could bring them in peacefully. That was probably stupid, to think I could make them listen to me. But I was desperate to fix it all. Wilson told me that they’d said something about more Winter Soldiers.” 

“More?” Rhodey can feel his heart beating faster just at the thought. 

“In a HYDRA bunker in Siberia. They said Zemo was going to activate them and Steve and Barnes had gone to stop them.” 

Tony pauses, and Rhodey takes the opportunity to snarl, “And they couldn’t have bothered to tell us that in Germany? Tell people who could have helped them that they weren’t just running away from the law, instead of fighting their own team?” 

Tony just shrugs, eyes drifting down again in that way of his that means guilt. “They didn’t trust me, for working with Ross and the Accords. That fight never should have happened, you never should have been hurt. If I’d tried harder to let them explain—” 

“I was right there with you, remember?” Rhodey interrupts before Tony can continue blaming himself. “You gave them plenty of opportunity to talk. They were the ones who decided to solve all their problems with violence.” _And they never trusted you to begin with, because they were morons_ , Rhodey thinks privately, but saying that out loud won’t help Tony. Tony doesn’t look convinced, but Rhodey knows he’s getting them off track. “So you went to Siberia to help them, and they attacked you?” 

Rhodey immediately knows he’s said something wrong by the way Tony leans back and wraps his arms around himself. “No. I attacked them.” 

There’s more to this, that much is glaringly obvious. Trying to be patient, knowing how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun, Rhodey sits back again, resuming his earlier position with his hands on Tony’s knees. “What happened?” he asks softly. 

“The Soldiers were already dead. Zemo had never intended to activate them. It was all a trap for us, and I fell for it. I… he had a video.” Tony drops his arms and looks at Rhodey again, but now his eyes have taken on a terrifying emptiness. “My parents didn’t die in a car crash. HYDRA was after the serum my dad was transporting, and they sent the Winter Solider after them. Barnes killed them. He beat Howard to death and then he strangled my mom.” 

Rhodey can’t breathe, his chest held too tight by grief and anger to draw in air. To hear this, to think about Tony not only finding out, alone in that bunker and standing right next to the man who did it, but having to _watch_ it happen, is horrifying. Tony is trying and failing to hold back tears, head beginning to fall like it’s too heavy to hold up. Rhodey gasps in enough breath to speak. “So you attacked Barnes?” Tony’s head jerks up at that, and Rhodey hates the confused look, like Tony can’t believe that anyone else would come to the same conclusion or understand what he did. “That’s the only thing I can imagine happened. The only thing _anyone_ would have done in that situation. Tony, you aren’t really blaming yourself for reacting like a _human_ to something like that?” 

Tony shakes his head and lets out a strangled sob. “It wasn’t even just that. I… I wanted Barnes to hurt, yeah, but I could have… could have held that back. I knew he’d been brainwashed. Even if it was him that did it, he didn’t… didn’t _want_ to. I wasn’t really thinking straight, but… I think I could have calmed down, under the right circumstances. But then Steve…” 

Rhodey thinks he knows what’s coming. Rogers made everything worse, because like Tony said, all he’d ever cared about was Barnes, his best buddy. If it was a choice between a grieving man lashing out in anger and the brainwashed assassin who’d orphaned him, Rogers would choose Barnes every time. Rhodey can see it all in his own head, Tony going for Barnes and Rogers escalating the situation instead of trying to make peace. But Tony, eyes squeezed shut and fingers digging into the couch, stops him short with his next words. 

“Steve _knew_.” 

It’s like Rhodey’s there in the Siberian bunker himself, the way an icy cold is spreading through his body. “What do you mean, Steve knew?” he says, and thank god Tony doesn’t take it the wrong way, because there’s no way Rhodey can keep the dangerous, forcibly—unnaturally—calm rage out of his voice. 

Tony opens his eyes again to look at Rhodey. “I could see it in his face. How he wasn’t surprised at the video. So… I asked him if he’d already known. He tried to lie, but I didn’t… I wouldn’t buy it. So I asked him again, and he told me the truth. He _knew_ about it, and he never told me.” 

Rhodey never thought he’d be glad for his paralysis, but it’s the only thing in that moment that keeps him from jumping up and storming straight to the prison where they’re keeping Rogers. He wants to track the son of a bitch down and _kill him_ , but before that, he wants him to _suffer_. He can think of some creative ways to make it happen. All he needs is a knife and a few hours, or something burning hot or icy cold, just about anything, he’s already planning methods of gruesome torture. What would be it like, he wonders, to make Barton and Romanoff watch it? To show them what their great hero is really made of? 

And all at once, he’s shaking and gasping in air, because this _isn’t him_. He’s angry, yes, but he’s not _evil_. He wants justice for Tony, for himself, but not like this. He isn’t thinking clearly and he knows it. All the stress of everything that’s happened since the split of the Avengers is catching up to him, and it’s turning him into something he doesn’t want to be. He’s just so exhausted, he’s been on edge continuously since the invasion started. He’s physically hurt, maybe permanently, he’s trying to care for a best friend with problems he can’t begin to understand, and trying to help run a company that’s attempting to help an entire _planet_ recover from something they can barely comprehend. The sheer scale of everything that’s happened is crushing him, and now it seems he’s having the breakdown he’s been putting off since he found Tony again. 

He becomes aware, slowly, that his eyes are tightly closed, his teeth biting hard enough into the inside of his cheek to draw blood. When he forces his eyes open, Tony is kneeling in front of his chair, hands framing his face and brows drawn in with concern. Rhodey manages to bring his own hands up to cover Tony’s. He threads his fingers between Tony’s and pulls their hands down to his chest, feeling his own heart thumping, his chest heaving, and wills himself to calm down. 

As he calms, a thread of guilt weaves between his slowing heartbeats. Tony just spilled his guts to him, told him about the worst day of his life—and death—and now Rhodey’s the one having a breakdown over it. He should be focused on helping Tony. He licks his lips, tasting salt and realizing that he’s been crying, then clears his throat hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out on you.” 

Tony shakes his head. Without pulling his hands from Rhodey’s, he shifts around so he’s sitting more comfortably in front of him. “Don’t be sorry. You… I know how stressed you’ve been. I shouldn’t have put this on you.” 

Now Rhodey’s the one shaking his head, squeezing Tony’s hands for emphasis. “Don’t. If I’m not allowed to blame myself here, neither are you. I wanted to hear this, Tony. I needed to. And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, that you had to go through it _alone_.” 

Tony looks up at him, raw and open. “If you’d been there too, and you’d died… I never would have forgiven myself,” he whispers. “We’re here now. They can’t hurt either of us anymore. It… things aren’t _good_ , not yet, but they will be. We’ll work it out.” 

Rhodey can only nod, more tears running down his face, and let go of Tony’s hands to pull him up into a hug. It’s awkward with him in his chair, but Tony doesn’t care, practically climbing on him so they can wrap their arms tightly around each other. 

That night, when they’re in bed—clinging to each other a little harder than normal, maybe—Rhodey reflects on his own attitude about everything. Now, when he’s had some time and distance from the news, he can see that storming after Rogers in any capacity isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to hurt anyone but himself and Tony. 

The best thing they can do for themselves is move on. Forget all about the people who lied and betrayed them and try to do the best they can to build new lives. If anything, they’re better off now without people like Rogers in their lives. He knows Tony won’t necessarily feel that way for a while; he’d thought he had a real friendship with Rogers, with all of the Avengers, and Tony has always formed strong emotional attachments. Whatever Rhodey thinks about it, however they treated him in return, Tony loved those people, and he’s not going to just drop all his feelings for them in a hurry. He might not ever forgive what Rogers did, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to stop caring about him, stop hurting and longing in equal parts for the friendship and trust that was destroyed. And all Rhodey can do is be there for him while he figures it out, and hope that time and distance will lessen those pains. 

He can also recognize that there’s truth to what Tony said about everyone’s reactions to the ex-Avengers being unfair. Even Rhodey’s, even after he found out the truth about Siberia and how Tony died. They made mistakes, yes, but all of them did, on both sides. Maybe all of the ones who fought against the Accords were arrogant and egotistical and all the bad things that they’d always accused Tony of, but Tony’s right. They’re not evil. They’re not inherently bad people, they weren’t _trying_ to hurt anyone. In their own idiotic, shortsighted, self-righteous way, they were trying to help people. They were wrong, but they had good intentions, at least at the start. 

That doesn’t make them any less guilty of the crimes they committed, the people they got killed, but… at this point, Rhodey thinks, it seems like they’re being punished enough. If they’re really the good people they claim to be, then they’re devastated to know that they failed the world, that millions of people are dead because they couldn’t fight off Thanos. That guilt will never leave them. And even if they don’t feel any responsibility for that, they’re in prison. The whole world hates them and that likely won’t change in their lifetimes, if at all. They’re all going to die alone, as criminals, as failures. 

And Tony and Rhodey are here, in the rebuilt Tower, putting their lives back together and looking at a future that has the potential to be great. Whatever Rogers did, Tony is alive now, and that’s a victory in itself. Whether he heals or not from the damage done to him in Germany, Rhodey is alive as well, and he has the chance to do a lot more for Tony, for SI, for the world. A chance that none of the former Avengers will get. And most importantly, for both Tony and Rhodey, they have each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t the last we’ll see of the ex-Avengers, but they won’t be back in a chapter for a long time. The next chapter will have happy things, I promise, not just a bunch of sadness followed by a hopeful thought from Rhodey.
> 
> Personally (as anyone who reads my bitter stories obviously knows), I don’t take such a forgiving attitude towards Rogers and his group of assholes as Rhodey does here. But in the face of such worldwide destruction, what they did takes a different perspective, and I’m trying to present a healthier, less biased viewpoint here. Tony and Rhodey need to move on, and not waste any of their time or energy on Rogers, even if it’s just to hate him. And there’s truth to what Rhodey thought about, that at this point, in this story, they’re certainly facing plenty of punishment (not that it absolves Rogers at all of having brutally murdered Tony, not to mention the people he killed in Romania, but still. It would be bad for Tony or Rhodey as people, even if I think he would deserve it, for either of them to go murder Rogers now).


	20. Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, happy chapter :) It’s a little short, but my “planning” for this chapter, which is usually one or two long paragraphs, was just 15 words outlining a basic concept that I wanted to work in and had to write an entire chapter around. Still, it’s the start of a generally more upbeat attitude for the story, so more goodness to come.

It’s time.

The timing is perfect, really, because Rhodey was very close to giving up on trying to field requests for Tony’s tech and consultation time. Before he was finally forced to figure out how to bring it up to Tony, however, Tony did so himself.

Tony had approached him yesterday afternoon, near the end of their short break time before splitting apart for more SI meetings and responsibilities. Quietly, Tony had said that if he wanted to do much for SI, he should be back in the labs, working. They’d been busy at the time, so Rhodey couldn’t address the hesitance or the guilt in Tony’s eyes. He’d only had time to smile and tell him that if that was what he wanted, then they’d go together tomorrow.

Now, they’re standing in front of the doors to one of the smaller labs, and there’s tension in the air. 

There are various lab spaces scattered throughout the building, both in the areas open to the public and the top, private floors. The one they’re standing in front of isn’t the main lab, where Tony used to work on and store the Iron Man suits. That one, because of the suits and other dangerous tech inside, was sealed off with multiple layers of security upon Tony’s death. It’s possible they could break in, but that would take time and effort and for now, Tony hasn’t given any sign that he wants to return to Iron Man, just that he’d like to get back to engineering work for SI, so any lab will do.

None of them have been touched since Tony’s death, not even during the reconstruction of the Tower, by virtue of all being on the lower levels, below where the explosion had happened. And even when Rhodey and Tony came back and rebuilt the Tower, Tony didn’t seem to want to go back. Rhodey has never been sure why, but now that they’re about to go back and he can tell that Tony is worried, he figures it’s about time to address it.

He thinks about asking “Why now?” but that’s a stupid question. SI is pretty much running smoothly again, even with a reduction in employees, but they’re looking to expand the company once more, to integrate into the recovering world with new tech and new ways to help people. Even with a well-staffed, brilliant R&D department, everyone knows that the most incredible innovations out of SI always came from Tony himself, and Tony knows they’re all expecting him to get back to it. Rhodey also firmly believes that it’s a part of Tony, something that hasn’t been lost just because of his death or what Thanos did to him. So it’s not a question of why Tony’s returning; it’s what has held him back until now.

He decides to just come right out and say it. “What are you afraid of, Tony?” he asks quietly.

He can see how Tony tenses next to him and there’s an uncomfortable moment of silence. “I’m not sure,” Tony finally says. Rhodey hears him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This is… something I used to do. It used to define me, more than anything else did. I know I can still do it, I’m physically capable, my powers might even help me. I don’t get distracted as much now as I did at first, I think faster. But…” there’s a long pause, long enough that Rhodey starts to think Tony won’t finish, before he finally whispers, “what if it’s not the same?”

Rhodey twists to reach for Tony’s hand, grabbing it and feeling Tony’s fingers tighten around his immediately. Tony turns to look at him, expression heartbreakingly unsure. There are a million things Rhodey could say, a million reassurances he could give, but none of them would be absolutely certain or meaningful to Tony. They would sound empty. So instead, he tells him the simple truth that he hopes will mean the most. “When has that ever stopped you?”

Tony just stares at him, blinking, for at least a full minute. But finally, the hesitation on his face gives way to something determined that fills Rhodey with pride. Tony nods silently and turns back to the door, moving forward with confidence now to place his palm on the scanner and enter his credentials into the backup system.

Back when there was an AI in the Tower, the doors would have opened automatically for Tony, Rhodey, and anyone else with permission to enter the lab. They would have stayed shut until permission was given for most others, and never opened for the short list of banned people. But in case of any kind of catastrophic failure, Tony shutting the Tower AI down briefly for maintenance or other reasons, or any other reason the AI could be offline, the backup system is just the traditional security methods.

The doors open nearly silently, even though Rhodey feels like there should be a swelling of music or a momentous chime as they pass through, as Tony embraces this part of his past and future. They walk into a darkened room—the labs have no windows for safety reasons—and there’s a moment of stillness before the lights flicker on. 

The usually shining surfaces are slightly dulled by accumulated dust, but that’s an easy fix. The air of disuse in the room will disappear quickly as Tony gets back to work. They move into the room slowly, Tony looking around like he’d forgotten what it was like to be here. Rhodey watches him carefully and hopes, more than anything, that this will be a positive experience for him.

Tony stops and Rhodey sees him take a deep breath in as he looks around. When he lets it out, his entire body just _relaxes_ , and Rhodey smiles. This is where Tony belongs. And whatever was scaring him into staying out of the lab has obviously fallen by the wayside. Rhodey is getting a good feeling about this.

His good feeling is proven right after a few moments of silence in which he watches Tony just stand and breathe. Tony hasn’t yet stepped into the center of the computerized circle that will activate any of the screens or other tech around the room, and so Rhodey is momentarily confused when there’s a mechanical whir from somewhere across the room.

He sees Tony’s head turn as well, looking over the desk and half-wall to the source of the noise. The whir is replaced by a low, inquisitive beep and Rhodey places it just as Tony’s entire face drops into a shocked expression even stronger than the day he discovered his powers. 

Tony seems speechless, and Rhodey is too, as they make their way across the room to meet the bot. Rhodey is a few feet back in his chair, watching Tony cautiously step up to DUM-E where he’s rolled forward towards them.

DUM-E gives another low, questioning sound as he raises his claw and camera to examine Tony. Rhodey can see the tension winding Tony’s body tight, and he suddenly understands the hesitation in his movements. “Hey, buddy,” Tony says quietly, and holds his hands out for the bot to examine.

DUM-E moves his camera carefully over Tony’s hands, down to his feet and then back up his torso to gaze up at his face. Rhodey can practically feel Tony’s fear that he won’t be recognized, but DUM-E lets out a high-pitched squeal and rolls forward to clumsily shove his arm into Tony’s chest.

Tony stumbles back half a step with the force of it—or maybe the surprise—but his arms come up immediately to wrap around the arm in the closest approximation of a hug possible for them. “Yeah, I’m here,” Tony says over DUM-E’s excited beeping, patting the top of his claw, and Rhodey thinks he might hurt himself smiling so hard at the two of them.

It’s not long before the bot turns his attention to Rhodey himself, rolling over to intently examine his wheelchair and his face. It’s clear he recognizes Rhodey immediately, so while Rhodey pats his claw and says hello again for the first time in months, Tony takes the opportunity to examine DUM-E, running his hands over every inch of him, frowning and muttering to himself the way he used to whenever he was in the workshop and thought he was alone. 

It makes Rhodey’s heart soar, far more than seeing Tony hip-deep in engineering projects ever would. To see him treating his robot, his child, with the same care and concern he always has. Losing himself immediately in taking care of something he built and gave life to. And he might not be quite the same as Rhodey or another human, but DUM-E is another friend to Tony, one who loves him unconditionally and won’t treat him differently just because of how he’s changed.

When Rhodey’s done greeting DUM-E and Tony’s finished looking him over, Tony moves around to stand next to Rhodey again. DUM-E gives him a happy, inquisitive beep and Tony bites his lip as he looks him over again. “Where’s your brother, huh?”

Oh. In the excitement of seeing one of the bots again and realizing that DUM-E wasn’t locked away and potentially destroyed with Tony’s suits, Rhodey had nearly forgotten about U. His brief moment of guilt over that is forgotten when DUM-E gives a series of beeps and grabs Tony’s shirt in his claw, reversing across the lab and awkwardly dragging Tony with him. 

Rhodey laughs at the sight, and the indulgent way Tony stumbles along with him, and follows them across the lab. His mirth dies off when they get into the corner where DUM-E is leading them and see the collection of broken and charred parts just barely recognizable as another bot. DUM-E lets go of Tony to go and poke at the pile with a low, sad noise.

Tony kneels down and runs his hands over some of the parts. Rhodey understands what happened at the same time Tony mumbles, “He was upstairs, huh?” U must have been up on a higher level of the Tower when Pepper blew the top floors, and he’d been caught in the explosion. “Did you bring him here yourself? For me? Good job, buddy,” Tony says, patting DUM-E’s claw with one hand and staring down at U.

Understanding dawns on Rhodey at that. This is one of the smaller auxiliary labs, and Rhodey was wondering what DUM-E was doing down here. But it’s the lowest down, farthest from the scene of destruction that was the upper levels of the Tower. DUM-E must have dragged the broken pieces of his fellow bot down to what he saw as the safest place for them to hide, then shut himself down to conserve power—there’s no charging station for the bots in this lab, since Tony rarely worked on anything where he’d need their help here—in the hope that Tony would come back and be able to fix them. Rhodey’s heart hurts a little at the humanity Tony’s creations display, the fact that they so clearly have emotions, and therefore were hurt by the invasion, by the deaths of many of their friends, and the past months without any contact with anyone. 

DUM-E makes another low, sad noise, and Tony absently reaches back to stroke along his claw. “Don’t worry, DUM-E, you did good. I’ll fix him.” 

Tony stands again and moves over next to Rhodey. His face looks lighter than Rhodey’s seen it since his resurrection, and Rhodey gives him an encouraging smile, beyond glad that Tony chose to come back to the lab. Some of that lightness disappears a moment later, when Tony throws a guilty look in DUM-E’s direction. The bot has moved back around to watch Tony again. “I’m sorry I left you here so long,” Tony says, quiet again.

Rhodey reaches up to grab his hand. “I’m pretty sure he’s just happy to have you back, Tony, no matter how long it took,” he says, and DUM-E confirms that with a happy series of beeps. Tony ducks his head, but some of the renewed tension eases from his posture again, which is good.

Rhodey lets the comfortable silence stand for a minute or so before he lets go of Tony’s hand and turns his chair toward the center of the room. “So, are you ready to get to work?” he asks, and Tony looks up again and nods.

Tony moves past him and over to the long desk, standing on the activation pad. As soon as he makes contact with it, a holographic screen pops up in front of him, waiting for him to enter his credentials. He does so quickly, comforting familiarity in the movement, and it makes Rhodey smile again to watch him. The main screen switches over to his desktop and a dozen miniaturized boxes pop up on either side of it, waiting for Tony to activate the other screens around the room and open up his work on every available surface, like usual. 

With a flourish of his hands that sends a jolt through Rhodey—he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the little gestures that give Tony so much personality—Tony reaches for the screens and then flings his arms wide, sending holographic projections up all over the room in a wide, glowing arc around him. Standing at the center of this constellation of technology, with his glowing marks matching the color of the projections around him, Tony looks more than ever like he’s _one_ with his tech; but rather than making him look alien and strange, it suits him.

Tony turns slowly in a circle on the spot to look around at the room, at all of his own tech, here in the environment where he’s always been most at home. When he finishes the turn and faces Rhodey again, there’s something so stunningly _different_ about his demeanor that it takes Rhodey a moment to understand what’s changed.

Tony is _smiling_.

Rhodey’s been aware on a basic level that Tony hasn’t smiled, hasn’t shown any kind of real positive emotion, since his resurrection. But he hadn’t quite comprehended the degree of difference it would make in Tony to actually see it on his face. Yet here it is now, and it’s almost startling, in a really, truly _good_ way.

Tony’s always had a bright smile, one that took years off his face. Now, the Infinity Stones have erased most of the lines, the scars, the marks of a hard life from Tony’s skin, replacing them with the glowing reminders of everything Tony’s been through since his death, in this second life. Still, the glow from his new markings stretched into a smile, the way his eyes still crinkle at the corners; everything about this is both new and familiar, and it’s beautiful.

Tony’s face gradually relaxes back into a neutral expression, but when he looks back at Rhodey, there’s still a bright spark in his eyes. One that gives a sense of reality to the optimistic hope that Rhodey’s been using to sustain his assertions that Tony can recover. Such a sense of relief sweeps through him at that that he thinks if he were standing, his legs might go out from under him. As it is, he doesn’t think he’s imagining the slight tremble to his hands when he grips his chair to wheel himself over to one of the desks.

They pass the rest of the day in the lab, the time flying by faster than it’s felt like it has in years. Though Tony came in with the intention of immediately starting up SI projects, the first thing he does is gather U’s broken parts and start digging around for what he’ll need to fix him. Rhodey thinks he’s doing it both for his own sake—to have the comfort of his bots alive and well—and also for DUM-E, both so he can have his brother back and so he has something to do for a while. It’ll take Tony some time to be out of the planning phase for any SI projects, and after the long separation, Rhodey has no doubt DUM-E—both the bots, really, once U is also fixed and running smoothly again—will be eager to help and to be around Tony.

While Tony is opening panels on DUM-E, cannibalizing spare parts for U and tuning up his working bot at the same time, Rhodey quietly opens Tony’s private server and does some work of his own. There are dozens of open projects relating to the former Avengers, both living and dead, that bring a bad taste into Rhodey’s mouth just to look at them. Tony doesn’t need the reminders of the people who betrayed him—and all the work he put into keeping their ungrateful asses happy, even when they acted like just seeing him was a chore—or the loyal teammates who are now dead. Rhodey trashes any open projects for Rogers, Barton, Romanoff, Maximoff, Wilson, and Vision, plus the smaller files he had on things for Pepper. There are backups somewhere, he knows, and if Tony really wants to go looking, he’ll find them, but they won’t be right there in his face when he goes to open up new files.

He keeps anything related to the Iron Man or War Machine suits, the unmarked personal project files that could be for anyone, and everything Tony has on the Parker kid. It’s entirely possible the kid is dead, but… it’s also possible he’s not. If he is still alive, even if the invasion terrified him into never wanting to take up any kind of superhero work again, Tony will be adamant about helping him out any way he can.

When they finally leave the lab that night—after a moderately long battle in which Tony had to convince DUM-E to stay in the rigged-up charging station Tony had made for him instead of spending the night trying to put more of U’s parts back together or following Tony around the Tower—Tony slumps a bit with the sort of satisfied weariness that Rhodey’s actually happy to see. It’s so much better than the overwhelmed exhaustion that Tony has often been working himself into over the time since his resurrection.

They eat dinner on the couch, idly flipping through news channels to try to keep up a little more with what’s going on in the outside world. Thankfully, it’s mostly good news on the reconstruction efforts and the rebuilding of society, rather than disasters and death tolls. The nebulous “government” that has been in the works since shortly after the invasion is starting to solidify more into something that’s strong enough to split into departments and focus in different areas. While there’s no doubt it will be riddled with issues once they’re given time to appear, at least there’s something in place.

Tony sets his plate down and slumps over to lean his head on Rhodey’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispers. Rhodey’s not sure what exactly it’s about; he saw Tony give him a look when he opened up his project files earlier that told him Tony knew exactly what he did and was, if anything, grateful for it, but he could also be thanking him for encouraging him to go to the lab in the first place, or for dinner, or any number of things. Rhodey just puts an arm around him, accepting whatever the thanks is for.

Tony pulls out of his hold, though, to sit up and face him, and Rhodey’s a little taken aback by the intensity in his gaze. “Thank you,” Tony repeats, “for sticking by me through… everything. All of this. It’s… I hadn’t realized how much I was missing from—from myself, before today. I wasn’t really me, was I?”

“You’ve always been yourself,” Rhodey says, then shakes his head at Tony’s doubtful look. “I knew it was still you back on the day Thanos died, and you still would have been the same person even if you never went back to the lab again. Inventing and engineering and tech aren’t what make you yourself, Tony.”

“But it helps.”

Rhodey can’t disagree with the earnest look on Tony’s face. “…Yeah. It helps.” He pauses, looking at Tony and wondering if it’s the right time to bring it up. “I saw you smile today.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth quirks up at that, for just a second. “I know. I… I can’t say I didn’t know it was the first time since I—died, but I guess I hadn’t realized, I don’t know, how much I was missing.”

“Like something to be happy about?” Rhodey asks, but Tony shakes his head.

“It wasn’t quite that. I… still don’t know if I know what _happiness_ feels like. It’s a pretty distant memory. But being back there, remembering what I can do, it was something like… nostalgia?” Tony grimaces. “That’s not the right word. But I know it was good.”

“Good.” Rhodey leans back into the couch and Tony does the same, scooting closer to him. “Keep that up and don’t let it go. Even if it doesn’t make you happy quite yet, if it’s good, you hold onto it.”

Tony grabs his hand at that and Rhodey, giant sap that he apparently is, has to hold his breath for a few seconds to force himself not to tear up. Tony laces their fingers together and leans into his shoulder again. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people like to write U and Butterfingers as separate bots instead of just two nicknames for the same one, but I’m pretty sure that in the actual movies, there’s only two of them, so that’s what I went with here.


	21. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been so long, everyone, my last few weeks have been 13 hour shifts, after which I’m usually too tired to do much but eat a bit, go to sleep, and then go back to the hospital. Been loving labor and delivery, though. Rotations are tiring as hell but neat and totally worth it. My writing opportunities are dwindling, particularly as I reach the end of this rotation and have to study for the shelf exam, but at the end of this month I start psychiatry and should have a little more free time, so I really hope I won’t be going a month between updates anymore.
> 
> This is a somewhat short chapter, but important for Tony and Rhodey :)

Stark Industries is taking off again, and occasionally Rhodey thinks to himself that it’s a good thing neither he nor Tony have any greedy, malicious intentions, because they could easily take over the world. Now that Tony is back to what he does best, the company is prospering and spreading and becoming incredibly powerful, with so many people dependent on and grateful to them. Not to mention Tony’s status among the people; most of the population would do anything he asked them without question, and sometimes that kind of influence is a little frightening.

Not that they’re doing it for that. Like with most things since becoming Iron Man—and even some before; contrary to what his reputation suggested, Tony was never completely selfish or greedy—Tony is doing it for the good of the world. Good intentions haven’t stopped him from gaining wealth or power, though. While he initially took a significant hit to his own funds and the pockets of the company by paying his employees so much and taking care of their needs and their families in order to get them back to work, even when they’re sending a good fourth of their products out for free now and selling the rest just barely above cost, they’re back to rapidly hiking up the company’s profits.

And while that’s incredible, and he’s immeasurably grateful for the opportunity to help so many people, on a personal level Rhodey doesn’t really care about any of that. What he’s really happy about is just the fact that Tony’s back to inventing, no matter what it is he makes. Because Tony is more at home in the lab than anywhere else, more relaxed, more like himself.

Even with the destruction of the invasion weighing heavy on them, and the faraway but still very present threat of more alien interference or attacks, there’s something rejuvenating about being in the lab, and the life in Tony when they’re there. For the first time in years, Tony’s creating just for the sake of doing so, without the guilt of past mistakes or the anxious drive of PTSD hanging over him.

Tony got U working again within two days, and both the bots keep them company in the lab on a regular basis now. It’s familiar and bittersweet at the same time, mostly because of the absence of another AI. JARVIS’s death had hit Tony so hard that Rhodey had been afraid he’d lost something of himself permanently, but then FRIDAY started really growing into herself and Tony seemed like he was moving on and coming to love her like the person she was. And now she’s gone too, and Rhodey’s honestly not sure what it’s done to Tony.

They’ve talked about it just once, and Rhodey considers himself lucky that he even got that far. He hadn’t honestly expected Tony to be willing to talk about his AIs at all, but he had. The conversation was short and unhappy, just Tony confirming what Rhodey already suspected: that FRIDAY had destroyed her own code when Tony died and the invasion began, and though there were backups of her base code, like JARVIS, by the time she died she’d grown far beyond the basics Tony had laid down. Like with JARVIS, reactivating a blank, emotionless version of the AI without any of the personality or memories or experiences would probably be more painful than the loss itself.

Rhodey wasn’t sure, by the tone of the conversation, whether Tony was open to the idea of creating another new AI. He has multiple different basic codes around, Rhodey knows, and could activate any of them any time, he’s pretty sure. But it wouldn’t be a replacement for FRIDAY (or JARVIS). A new AI requires a lot of care and nurturing to grow into even a fraction of the independence and personality that the others had had before they’d died. It’s a long process of learning, one that can’t be pushed or cheated.

So for now, they work in the lab with just the two of them and the bots. Tony’s opened up all the labs on the lower levels for R&D people, and they go down to visit and consult and compare notes often, but they both prefer to work on their own, away from the chaotic environment the other SI employees create. Particularly since some of the things they’re working on are not really for SI.

They’re just outlines right now, but Tony and Rhodey both have been sketching out ideas for large-scale defense systems, scanning technology to detect incoming intruders, and things of the like. It’s not something they’ve shared with anyone else yet, but sooner or later, they both know the new government will come to them, wondering about planetary defense. They’ve already got an increasingly large contingent of people clamoring for Iron Man to return, and Tony has that, his history with weapons design and the Avengers, and now his status as the powerful being who defeated Thanos, all of which are encouraging people to see him as the answer to future defense of the Earth.

Rhodey has started to wonder, along that same vein, about what he’ll say when they inevitably recreate the military and ask him back. War Machine, though they understood that he really belonged to and would always stick with Tony, was technically a military asset, and Rhodey’s entire adult career and life was spent with the Air Force. Now that the military has been decimated, he considers himself lucky that he has other good skills and can help Tony out with SI business, but it’s become more than that. He likes engineering, always has, and the freedom to design that he gets when working with Tony now is something he’d missed a bit in the military structure. Plus, he’s really building himself a role here. He wouldn’t abandon the responsibilities he’s taken on at SI now.

Yet even over time, when he could slowly transition out of SI and back into the career he’d always thought he’d carry into true retirement, he’s no longer sure what he’d say if they asked him back. Yes, it was a large part of his life, but the invasion has had a way of separating everything into _then_ and _now_ , and his history with the Air Force feels a lot like _then_. It’s in the past and as much as he enjoyed it, he’s not sure he really wants it back in the future.

The entire thing might be a moot point anyway. Even with all the rules and basic structure still in place, with pretty much every active member dead, it’s going to take a hell of a long time for any real military structure to be built up again. Rhodey’s already on the far side of 45. By the time the military is restructured and thinking about asking him back, he might be at or well past retirement age.

So thoughts about the Air Force and his old life stay to the background, and he focuses in on SI work. Though he isn’t churning out revolutionary new ideas quite like Tony, he still makes a valuable contribution. And Tony can always use a sounding board, and be one for Rhodey. Bouncing ideas off each other or even just having someone to talk to—though Tony can use the bots, or honestly a wall, for that just as well as Rhodey when he’s really deep into an engineering trance—helps both of them. Rhodey finds himself remembering just how good they are together, and wondering why he let them drift apart so much over the years. Back at MIT, cramped together in the same dorm room with a dozen active, probably dangerous, half-crazed projects at any one time and the idiotic bravery of youth, they’d blasted their way—sometimes literally—into plenty of awards, nominations, job offers, and a hell of a lot of trouble.

But then Rhodey went to focus on his military career, and willingly settled his wild imagination for the discipline, relative safety, and personal success of that structure. He used his technical skills as a pilot, but not quite to the extent that he had in college, and even when he became liaison to SI, he’d felt it was his duty to corral Tony more than encourage him. Not that some of the crazier tendencies weren’t still there; he still remembers the rush he’d felt watching Tony’s “accidental” battle with two fighter jets, remembers getting drunk on Tony’s private jet on the way to Afghanistan, remembers being willing to throw his entire career down the drain for one more chance to go out into the desert and look for the friend he’d blamed himself for losing.

War Machine was a great opportunity to let a little of that out, but he still didn’t work all that much with Tony directly. They fought together sometimes, and he occasionally went by to tinker with the suit alongside his best friend, but those times were few and far between, especially once the Avengers came into the picture. Tony was off superheroing and Rhodey was busy constantly trying to keep the delicate balance between reminding the Air Force that his suit was a great asset and keeping them from tearing it apart and trying to reverse engineer it. He could kick himself a hundred times for not ever realizing just how miserable Tony was most of that time with the Avengers, but by now he’s accepted that it won’t do anyone any good. It’s all in the past, and now he’s here, working closely with Tony again. He wouldn’t call the invasion “worth it” by any stretch, but at least some good came out of it.

They’re two weeks into regular lab work when Tony turns to him one day and awkwardly clears his throat, and Rhodey knows instantly from the look on his face that this is something big and important. Tony looks down, picks at one of his nails nervously, then taps out a rhythm on the screen next to him and brings up a hologram of a project Rhodey’s never seen before.

Rhodey thinks initially that it’s another defense project, but at first glance it doesn’t look anything like the others he’s seen. That, and it looks practically finished already, the projection detailed and pages of specs available to pull up next to it. He doesn’t know why Tony would hide a project. But as he looks it over, he starts to understand what he’s seeing.

Tony bites his lip and won’t quite make eye contact. “I’ve been working on them between other projects,” he says quietly, carefully.

He can’t know that the blank look on Rhodey’s face isn’t shock over the project itself, but the paralysis of a hundred thoughts racing through Rhodey’s head at once. A dozen things he needs to say and can’t say and he’d really thought this would happen on his own terms, but he supposes this is what he gets for waiting so long.

What Tony’s planned out is an exoskeleton, bionic legs of a sort, obviously meant for Rhodey. To get him walking again. Rhodey’s throat is a little tight as he swallows, but he’s been silent for too long, letting Tony’s nervousness build up, and Tony is talking again before he can open his mouth.

“I know you get around fine and this probably isn’t the most important thing in the world but you got hurt helping _me_ and it isn’t fair to you and you should really be able to walk again, but I didn’t tell you I was working on it because you’d try to talk me out of it and I—”

“Tony.” The rapid words cease as soon as the one word comes out and Tony’s head snaps up to look at Rhodey, eyes wide and uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, slower this time and practically a whisper, “I wasn’t trying to… keep secrets.”

And Rhodey’s heart aches at that, because this isn’t something Tony would have said a decade ago. This is an insecurity that years of betrayals and berating and shitty teammates with shittier attitudes have beat into him, apparently hard enough that it survived his death and resurrection. And Rhodey realizes with clarity that he needs to tell the truth right now, or risk reinforcing that idea in Tony’s mind.

“Tony, look at me,” Rhodey says, even though Tony is already staring at his shoulder. Tony’s eyes come up to his face, and Rhodey tries hard to look calm, seeing how clearly Tony is expecting to be yelled at. “I wouldn’t have told you not to do it. This… this is amazing, and I wouldn’t say no to the help,” Rhodey tells him, eyes landing on the hologram again for a second. The detail, the very idea, it’s incredible.

But that’s not the point he needs to make here, and his gaze goes back to Tony. “There’s nothing wrong with you hiding this, Tony. You’re allowed to have secrets.”

He knows Tony won’t believe that for a while. He was treated too badly, treated _himself_ too badly, after Ultron. He spent years being told, and then convincing himself without having to be told, that working on something privately would lead to nothing but disaster and death and heartbreak. But once again, Rhodey doesn’t linger on the point, because he has something more important to focus on. The time has come. The time came ages ago, if he’s honest with himself, but he was putting it off because of his own fears and insecurities and stupidity.

“And I have something to tell you, too. This is… there’s something you need to know before you work on this any more.” Rhodey tries to say it plainly, calmly, but he knows his heart is racing. When Tony just gives him a confused look, he takes a deep breath.

“I’ve been…” Rhodey starts, then shakes his head, going back to the beginning. “A while ago, after we got back to the Tower, I started… feeling something in my legs. Not much,” he clarifies hurriedly when he sees the look on Tony’s face, “pins and needles at best, and not often. But I went to the hospital a couple times, while you were busy, and they did some tests.”

Rhodey pauses, but Tony doesn’t say anything, just watches him expectantly. His expression is impossible to read. “They told me that it looked like my nerves were being rebuilt, or something, and… and not in a normal way. They had some theories about radiation and stuff from the invasion, but…”

“It’s me,” Tony says, and Rhodey knows in that instant, though he’d already suspected it, that Tony hasn’t been doing it consciously. The stunned look on his face is enough to confirm that theory.

“That’s what I assumed. It must have something to do with being around you so much. I feel my best when I wake up every morning, and I used to get achy if I spent hours in meetings and stuff alone. It’s better now, everything is. I haven’t been back to the hospital since, but I’ve been feeling a little more practically every day. Lately I can feel pressure, just a bit, almost all the time. And, just a couple days ago…”

He trails off, but bends down to pull off one of his shoes. He concentrates, hoping what’s happened twice in the last few days will happen again, and grins when he manages to move his big toe. Not much at all, but just enough to see through his sock, enough to be sure that it’s a purposeful movement.

He looks back up and Tony is gazing down at his feet with surprise and something like wonder. There’s a hint of a smile on his face, which warms Rhodey’s heart, but then it slides away and Tony looks back up to Rhodey, mouth pulling down into a frown.

“Why… didn’t you tell me earlier?”

It’s a question Rhodey’s been dreading, but he resolves to just tell the truth and trust that Tony won’t hate him for it. “I wasn’t sure, not for a while, even with what the doctors said. If this turned out to be nothing, I didn’t want to… get your hopes up. Or my own,” he adds quietly, which softens Tony’s look.

“And I didn’t want to burden you with this. With whatever it is. When it first started you were still working out your powers, you still are, and adding this on, I was afraid of what you’d think about it, since you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

Tony just looks at him for a few long seconds, and there’s something uncomfortable in his body language. “I could have handled it myself. I’d have liked to know.”

And all at once Rhodey’s heart is twisting with guilt, because he understands the parallel, sees what he hadn’t before, what might have persuaded him to tell Tony the truth a lot sooner. “Tony, I—I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you because of _you_. I did it because I wasn’t sure what it meant for me, and I wanted to figure that out so I could be here for you when you were working through it. But that’s not an excuse. You’re right, you can handle yourself, and I shouldn’t have tried to make that judgment for you. I’m not… trying to control you.” His throat tightens on his last thought, he wonders if he should say it out loud, and then decides to go the hell ahead. “I wasn’t trying to be Rogers.”

Tony deflates at that, sighs and wraps his arms around himself. “You’re not. I know why you did it. And it had more to do with you than me. It was your secret to keep.” _Not like the one Rogers kept from me_. Tony doesn’t need to say it.

Rhodey decides not to mention anything about his fears regarding other people and their potential reactions to Tony’s apparent healing abilities. If Tony isn’t going to bring it up himself, Rhodey doesn’t want to put that burden on him right now. But there is one more important thing.

“I also… didn’t want you pushing yourself. I know,” he says, holding up a hand as Tony throws him a slightly resentful look, “I’m not your damn mother. But come on, Tony, I know you. You’re already up all day working on SI projects and defense projects and you probably sacrificed a few more hours of sleep you could have used just to design this,” he gestures to the hologram of the exoskeleton. “I don’t need you hurting yourself trying to heal me faster.”

Tony taps his fingers against his arms where they’re resting. “I wouldn’t.” At Rhodey’s disbelieving look, he adds, “I mean, I wouldn’t… try anything on you. Not on purpose. My powers aren’t stable enough for that. I’d never risk you like that.”

“I know,” Rhodey says quickly, because he doesn’t need Tony beating himself up thinking that Rhodey believes he’d experiment with his powers on another person. “But man, promise me you’re not going to do anything different now. I know you wouldn’t try to do anything to me on purpose, but just… don’t worry about it, okay? Please?”

“Absolutely,” Tony says with a sarcastic little smile. “I’m well known for my ability to not worry about things.”

Rhodey has to just blink for a second—this is the first time he’s heard anything even approaching a joke or sarcasm from Tony since his resurrection and it seems like a hell of a step to have happened so suddenly—but then he laughs and shakes his head. “Fair point. Just… I don’t know.” He doesn’t know how to express this thought, this fear that knowing this will change something for Tony.

Tony shrugs like he’s moved on from the subject, then narrows his eyes. “You said you think it’s proximity?”

Rhodey nods, a little hesitant, wondering if this is leading to a difficult conversation about healing other people. “Physical contact helps, at least I think so.”

Tony nods like he’s confirmed something and scoots over the last few inches to the end of his workbench until he’s as close to Rhodey’s chair as possible. He hooks one leg around the inside of Rhodey’s so that their ankles are pressed together. He leans a little to the side and Rhodey meets him in the middle until their shoulders are touching. 

Rhodey has to hide a stupid grin. “A little hard to work like this, don’t you think?”

Tony sighs and leans away. “Maybe. And I’ll have to get up and move and get things, but if we’re both sitting, we should be touching.” He says it like a command and Rhodey smiles.

“It might only work when we’re sleeping, you know. Like how you’re supposed to do most of your growing when you sleep.” He glances sideways enough to see the unimpressed look on Tony’s face and has to smother another laugh. Rhodey made plenty of jokes at MIT and afterward that the reason Tony’s so short is all of the all-nighters he pulled as a teenager in college. 

Secretly, he’s glad for the added proximity to Tony, even when they were already working in the same lab every day. He would never complain about more contact with Tony, even if there were no chance at all that it would accelerate his healing. Other people might think it’s weird; heck, even though he’s never had much of a personal space in regards to Tony, even he might have thought it was a little weird years ago, to want to be so close to Tony as often as possible. But now, after the invasion and everything that’s happened, to worry about something like that just seems trivial. There are too many big, important things in their life, and they’re too grateful to have each other now, to waste any time caring about old social conventions or holding back any of their positive emotions.

“You don’t know that for sure,” is all Tony says, and Rhodey knows he’s happy about the situation, too. Or as close to happy as Tony can get these days. Tony turns back to the hologram of the exoskeleton. “If you’re going to be moving on your own, then the weight compensation needs to be adjustable. There should be incremental jumps, or a system for detection that provides enough support but still pushes you enough to work the muscles. I could…” he trails off into mutters and starts notating and pulling the projection apart to add and change things.

Rhodey smiles and turns back to his own project. It’s turned out well, but he knows that was close. He hates keeping secrets, was already upset about waiting so long to tell Tony, but he hadn’t made the connection between this and what Rogers did to him. He’s lucky that Tony is so forgiving and understanding. 

The strength of their friendship is definitely more than enough to overcome something like this, even if Tony hadn’t taken the news so well, but that doesn’t mean it should happen again. Rhodey can’t promise himself that he won’t ever keep a secret from Tony again—that’s just unrealistic—but not one like this. He swears it to himself.


	22. Responsibilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello again. I’m alive, I swear, though surgery did its best to kill me. I suppose the one good thing that came out of it is that I’m absolutely sure now that I would never subject myself to a surgery residency. Just being a student was so fucking stressful and awful, the ridiculous outdated attitudes and the general feeling are terrible and I can’t imagine doing that for the rest of my life, the rotation actually made me go home and cry a few times. 
> 
> Now that my excuses are out of the way, there are over 800 people subscribed to this story now and I’m sorry to every single one of you for taking so long to update this. I really hope none of you have given up on me. I’m hoping to write a ton over this winter break, and I know I owe you guys many chapters of this before I can work on any of my other stories. My only other obligation is a Mass Effect reverse big bang that I signed up for. 
> 
> This chapter isn’t very long and I’m sorry, particularly since it’s the first one in so long, but on the positive side, the next chapter is already written and just needs to be edited tomorrow before I post it. Plus, only a few more chapters before we get to some serious plot (I know I say that a lot, but it really is getting closer)!

Apparently, the revelation about Rhodey’s legs has opened the floodgates of all kinds of serious sit-down conversations. They already spent their mornings talking about feelings and thoughts and basically having daily therapy sessions—mostly trying to help Tony improve, but Rhodey has to admit they’ve been helping him to talk about some of what he’s gone through too—but now Tony seems to have set himself on a real path with clear goals.

Rhodey’s not complaining, it’s great to see that Tony seems to be looking forward to something, and thinking of the future in more terms than just “rebuilding everything Thanos wrecked” or “learning to be a normal human again.” Tony was always a forward-thinking person, to the point of being a little manic sometimes, and the return of that focus is just another good step for Tony.

But Tony’s gone into full-on “progress” mode, it seems. Rhodey woke up the day after telling Tony about his recovery to find Tony already up and surrounded by research on nerve damage and physical therapy, and he knew right then and there that this wasn’t something he was going to dissuade Tony from spending a ton of his time on.

That was one of the first things they needed to have a real, serious conversation about. Rhodey’s pretty sure there weren’t any lingering problems or hard feelings right after the revelation, but they needed more than a two minute conversation to really figure everything out and make sure they were comfortable with it. He sat Tony down and finally confessed all of his fears and anxieties and the heartbreaking moments of hope and disappointment when he would start to feel something, only for that feeling to inevitably fade, over the last month or so. Tony told him about all of the guilt weighing him down and how Rhodey, in a wheelchair that Tony felt he’d put him in, was ignoring his own issues to help Tony recover, which just made Tony feel worse.

That was definitely something they wouldn’t get over in a week, or even a month or a year. Tony’s always had a tendency to hoard guilt and to take on more blame for things than he should, and Rhodey’s not going to get him to quit any time soon. But they can talk it out, and he can make sure Tony understands that Rhodey absolutely doesn’t blame him for anything that happened and never will, and that’s a start.

Meanwhile, Tony has gotten Rhodey started on intense, modified physical therapy programs that he’d found for people recovering from nerve damage and long-lasting leg injuries. He quickly built a physical prototype of the braces he’d shown to Rhodey that had started the whole discussion. They still have some bugs to be worked out, but it’s pretty incredible to be able to stand up and move in them at all, and Rhodey isn’t too proud to admit he cried a little when they first went on.

He isn’t supposed to be relying on them too much, not now that they know he’s recovering, so he’s restricted to using them for a few hours a day. The assisted movement is good for blood flow and stretching the atrophied muscles in his legs, and then he takes them off and begins exercises to rebuild that muscle strength. He still spends most of his time in his wheelchair, but knowing that he can get up and out of it a few hours a day is amazing. 

They did discuss the possibility of sending him back to the hospital or bringing in doctors to consult on this, but eventually agreed that there probably isn’t much the medical professionals could do. This is all new territory; Rhodey’s muscles have atrophied enough at this point that regaining function shouldn’t be medically possible, but it seems whatever healing abilities Tony has are fixing the muscles along with the nerves. The braces are a revolutionary design, one doctors wouldn’t quite know how to work with. And above all, bringing in doctors now would mean telling other people about the cause of Rhodey’s healing.

That was an important conversation to have. One Rhodey was dreading a bit, knowing how Tony likes to throw himself into fires for other people when given the chance, but as it turns out, Tony readily agreed with him. Whatever healing Tony’s doing for Rhodey, he’s apparently doing it entirely subconsciously. It’s not something he knows how to replicate on purpose, it’s still technically an unknown and not exactly tested, and it seems to require physical contact over a long period of time. It’s that more than anything, Rhodey thinks, that’s making Tony so easily agree with him about keeping it a secret. Tony’s still uncomfortable with anyone but Rhodey touching him at all, much less staying in contact with him for a long time. Not only is it impractical to even picture trying to heal someone else the same way as Rhodey—Tony and Rhodey sleep together every night, that’s hours in close proximity and even physical contact that he couldn’t replicate during the day with anyone else—but it would be extremely uncomfortable for Tony, and he’s reluctant to be pushed into it.

Rhodey’s still worried about it, probably always will be. No matter what they do, sooner or later people will find out about it, or figure it out. Eventually Rhodey’s going to be healed and walking again, and people are going to question how that happened. He can only hope that by then, Tony has a better understanding of his powers and his emotions, and he can give an answer that he’s firm in and stand behind it. 

All of those serious conversations, as it turns out, were just a prelude to this one, though. It’s only been a few days since the whole thing started with Rhodey’s revelation about his healing, but now Tony’s sitting Rhodey down for another important talk and from the look on his face, Rhodey can tell it’s a big one.

“I… want to get back in the suit again.”

There’s a long silence. Not uncomfortable, thankfully, because Rhodey is still trying to scrape together enough coherent thoughts to say something. But Tony speaks again before he can. “Iron Man could be a help to people, I could do something for the reconstruction efforts. I don’t even have to be in the suit all the time, I could do it remotely.”

Rhodey nods slowly, still thinking, and Tony continues. “And, you know, people are already asking what happened to Iron Man. It would probably… bolster their confidence or something. Right?”

“Yeah, Tony, it would,” Rhodey finally says, only because Tony’s speech is getting a little faster and Rhodey’s worried he’ll start thinking Rhodey’s judging or disapproving of him.

Also because it’s true, seeing Iron Man around would probably be a huge relief for a lot of people. But Rhodey can’t help but think about all the reasons it could be a bad idea. First and foremost… “I thought all the suits were gone. I mean, except the one you left for emergencies, but… Pepper took that one.” It hurts, just a little, to mention Pepper like that, in connection with how she died, sticking with the man she’d loved and defended even after his death. She’d died thinking Tony was gone forever and that _hurt_.

Tony shakes his head. “The lab’s on lockdown and all the suits that were in their pods are gone or on the way by now, the protocols would have had them self-destruct, but there was at least one I was working on that’s just out in the lab. I could probably break past the lockdown, now,” he gestures with his hand to emphasize that it would be his powers allowing him to break into the lab, then adds, “besides, it’s not like I forgot how to make one. It would take some time, but I could design a new one if I can’t get hold of one.”

Rhodey can’t help but smile at that, because it’s something Tony would have said years ago, too, and that’s a good thing. It’s also good to see Tony acknowledging that his mind is just as sharp as ever, and a good reminder that Tony _is_ Iron Man, that the suit is just something that Tony makes and will always be dependent on the man himself.

Still… “Tony, you remember a while ago, after that guy from upstate came to ask you to leave with them?” Tony tenses a little at the reminder and his eyes flick away. Rhodey tries to keep his voice gentle, nonjudgmental, as he goes on. “You told me that you didn’t want to go back to being the Tony Stark that everyone expects too much of. And you had good reasons,” he adds earnestly.

“I remember,” Tony says quietly, but he doesn’t elaborate, so Rhodey does.

“You know that after everything, defeating Thanos, saving the world, and with pretty much everyone else gone… if you get back in the suit, the expectation is going to be higher than ever that you’ll step up to protect the planet.”

Tony nods. He looks down into his lap where his hands are fiddling with a crease in his pants, a nervous gesture that’s not new since his resurrection, but that Rhodey hasn’t seen in a while. Rhodey lets the silence stretch on, knowing that Tony’s thinking things through and needs a moment to structure whatever he’s going to say.

He doesn’t really want to dissuade Tony from getting back in the suit. Maybe it’s partly a selfish desire to see more emotional progress in Tony, but Rhodey is pretty sure that being Iron Man again will be a huge step in reconnecting to Tony’s past and his feelings, and it’ll be good for Tony. It’s also something that Rhodey doesn’t think Tony can really stay away from, the same way he couldn’t stay away from engineering and inventing. He might have kept himself out of the lab for a while after the invasion, but that was out of fear and apprehension, and the time since they’ve returned has only reinforced the fact that the desire to be in the lab was still there inside Tony all along. 

But Rhodey feels he has a responsibility to help Tony make the best decision for himself, even if it means abstaining from resurrecting Iron Man for now. Tony has always had a tendency to rush into things—a tendency that his death and resurrection have dulled, but certainly not destroyed—particularly when he thinks it’s something that will help other people, and he tends to forget little details, including his own needs, in the process. If Tony’s gotten it into his head that it will be good for the people to see him as Iron Man again, Rhodey can easily see him forgetting—or just choosing to put aside—his fears about being stretched too thin. Rhodey doesn’t want to see him stressed and trying to do too much, sacrificing his personal progress or emotional achievements for the public. It’ll only hurt everyone in the end, but mostly, it’ll hurt Tony, and Rhodey doesn’t want to let that happen.

Eventually, Tony takes a deep breath, sitting up straighter, eyes coming up to meet Rhodey’s again. “I know why you’re worried. And… I am too. You’re right, people are going to expect a lot if I do it, but… you were the one that told me that I only need to go back on my own terms. I can still stand up for myself. I know what I’m capable of and what I’m willing to do. I don’t need to give them an answer regarding the entire planet yet.”

He says it with such conviction that Rhodey has no choice but to believe him, not that he had any reason not to. “And,” Tony adds cautiously, “this, at least, getting back in the suit… I feel like it’s my responsibility. Whether I can really protect the whole world or not, it’s true that right now, I’m pretty much all we’ve got. I killed Thanos, I’m physically intact, and I’ve probably got a working suit somewhere. I feel like… I ought to be out there in it.”

That sparks something protective and worried in Rhodey. He takes a moment to think about how to phrase it—Tony’s new tendency to think for a long time before talking is really rubbing off on him—mostly because he doesn’t want to insult Tony. Tony’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions and protecting himself, and though Rhodey’s protective, it would be easy to step over that line into overbearing.

“You’re right,” is what he settles on to start with. “You can do it, and I know you can stand up for yourself. I know you know your own limits. And I certainly can’t say it would be bad for anyone to see you back as Iron Man again. But it worries me when you say that it’s your responsibility to be out there, because that sounds too close to the old Tony, at least to me. The Tony that did anything and everything anyone asked him and more, because he thought it was his _responsibility_ , and ran himself into the ground. You know it’s _my_ responsibility to watch your back, and I don’t want you going back out there just because you feel like you’re obligated to.”

Tony holds Rhodey’s gaze through his speech, and nods when he’s done. Rhodey knows he isn’t insulted by the protectiveness. There’s another moment of comfortable silence, and Rhodey knows that Tony’s truly contemplating it, which is gratifying. He trusts that Tony can make the right decision, can examine his own motivations well enough to know if he’s doing this because he feels like he has to.

The silence doesn’t last as long this time before Tony’s nodding again. “You have every right to worry. And maybe a part of me is doing this because I feel like I need to, but I also want to. I want this.”

Rhodey spends a few seconds just looking at Tony, examining his expression. The bright eyes and the glowing marks don’t take away from the determined, slightly stubborn expression that Rhodey’s more than familiar with, and Rhodey nods, sitting back. “Okay. I trust you, you know that. If this is really what you want… then let’s do it.”


	23. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your messages of support! I’m happy to report that the next chapter is once again written and can be posted tomorrow night once I’ve edited it :)

Stopped in front of the doors to another lab with Tony, Rhodey can’t help but be reminded of the last time. The feeling is different this time around, though. This time, the hesitation in Tony isn’t about his emotional state and the unknowns inside. Instead, it’s the unknowns surrounding Tony’s powers and how they’re going to get inside.

Tony designed the lockdown protocol himself. When his death was confirmed, his most incredible and dangerous tech couldn’t be allowed to get out, so it had to be destroyed. Nearly everything that qualified for that was kept inside this lab, Tony’s main private workspace. The vaults where the old Iron Legion and the various iterations of the Iron Man suits were all kept have been completely sealed off and the tech inside has self-destructed by now, with some kind of chemical combination that Rhodey’s not familiar with. Any technical plans Tony ever kept for the suits were purged by FRIDAY before she self-destructed as well.

The lab itself is sealed off too, but with a little less protection than the actual vaults. That’s what Rhodey and Tony are counting on right now. Though the doors are sealed under multiple layers of protection, there shouldn’t be anything else preventing them from entering. And though that door seal, created by Tony, should be enough to keep any normal human out—and hopefully even some non-humans—Tony’s no longer any normal human. He’s more powerful now than any person the past Tony had ever imagined might be trying to break in, and his powers should allow him to break through any physical barrier.

For the moment, Tony’s standing in front of what looks like a blank stretch of wall. That was part of the lockdown protocol; once the lab was sealed off, the doors would seal over and blend in with the wall, hiding where the entry to the lab used to be. Just another way to help keep out anyone who might come poking through the Tower after Tony’s death, looking to pilfer some of his world-changing designs.

There’s a silence as Tony contemplates the area of wall hiding the sealed doorway. He tilts his head, then steps forward to run one hand over the wall slowly. Rhodey just sits back and waits, knowing there’s nothing he can do to help this process. Eventually, Tony steps back and takes a deep breath, raising his hands, and Rhodey sits up straighter in anticipation.

Tony brings his hands together, palms facing the wall. He exhales, and as he does it, he pulls his hands apart like he’s physically pushing the doors open. Rhodey keeps his eyes on the wall; nothing happens for a second, and then there’s a ripple in the wall in front of Tony’s hands. The movement is disquieting, Rhodey’s mind wanting to reject seeing such a fluid movement from something he knows should be solid. 

The ripple quickly becomes a dark spot, a sort of tear in the solid wall, which rapidly expands, the walls physically pulling themselves apart with the movement of Tony’s hands. Rhodey just stares, a bit in awe—he hasn’t been with Tony as he’s been working on building reconstruction in the past few weeks, and Tony doesn’t use his powers much when they’re just sitting and relaxing at home. Seeing how much more comfortable he is now compared to months ago, and how easy it seems for him to do something like this now, really highlights how much Tony’s improved since his resurrection.

The whole affair is very quiet; the walls pull apart noiselessly, and Tony doesn’t make a sound except for the quiet breath he lets out as he does it. He doesn’t collapse or waver when he’s done, just turns to Rhodey with a satisfied half-smile and gestures to his handiwork.

“Nice job,” Rhodey comments, feeling like he needs to say something about that casual display of incredible power—he knows, with the level of sophistication of Tony’s protocols, that that was more complicated than just pulling apart some drywall or a metal door. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to pull away only whatever was enforcing the lockdown, leaving the old glass doors in their frames. Except for the absence of an AI to open the doors for them, it could be the lab a year ago.

This lab has a backup entry just like the small one they’ve been working in. Tony puts in his credentials the old-fashioned way and the doors slide open. When they walk in, the lights automatically come on, and Rhodey feels a wave of bittersweet nostalgia at the sights that greet him. This is where he used to find Tony most of the time, usually exhausted and pushing himself too far, surrounded by four or five long-cold cups of coffee as a testament to the hours he’d pushed himself beyond what he should, but always working along with music, happier here than anywhere else Rhodey ever knew him. Usually working on either his own suit, Rhodey’s, or occasionally something for one of the other Avengers.

The worktables and boxes of tools are the same as always, the spots where the bots usually stay are untouched—the bots are both downstairs right now, in the lab Tony and Rhodey have been using for SI—but the differences are still glaring. The alcoves along the walls where Tony used to store some Iron Man suits and a few iterations of other Avengers’ equipment are sealed off behind metal plates, their contents destroyed, the thick metal barriers reminding Rhodey of coffins for the things that Tony used to pour his heart and soul into. There’s a layer of dust settled on the normally pristine surfaces that’s dulling their usual shine, adding to the depressing feel of the place. There are little pieces of tech and tools scattered on the floors where they were knocked from the tables during the battles or the explosion of the Tower.

Still, Tony strides forward with confidence, weaving around the tables, kicking a few things out of the way to make room for Rhodey to wheel behind him. As they round a half-wall, Tony makes a triumphant sound. Rhodey pulls his chair up beside him and sees what he’s found: a nearly complete Iron Man suit, standing on its own, with a still-glowing reactor in its chest and its left arm disassembled and sitting on the table next to it.

“That saves some time,” Rhodey says, and when he looks up he spots a smile on Tony’s face, which warms him to his core. Tony can smile now, and he does, but it’s still rare, and it’s always a treat for Rhodey to see it.

“I was working on it before…” Tony hesitates, then finishes, “before everything went down in Germany. Some more remote features, a few upgrades, but it isn’t very different from the last one.” The one that was destroyed in Siberia. Rhodey remembers it, though he wishes he couldn’t—the burn marks, scratches, and dents all along every part of it, each one a testament to a blow to the man inside. The front was torn open by Vision when he removed Tony’s body, but when he’d brought the remains of the armor to Rhodey to ask what should be done with it, Rhodey could still see the horrible gash across the chest and the mangled remains of the reactor where Rogers’s shield had dug in. Where the killing blow had been dealt. 

And bile had risen in his throat as he realized that while the shield, and the strength of the traitorous man behind it, had been the thing to dent the armor, the metal sitting in front of Rhodey at that moment was the thing that had actually killed Tony, pressed against his ribs until bones inevitably gave way to titanium, crushed his chest until there was no room for it to expand, pressed on him, unforgiving, until he gasped in his last breath. Through the sudden revulsion at the sight of it, Rhodey could barely draw in the breath necessary to tell Vision to get rid of it, incinerate it, melt it down and get its remains out of his sight.

It takes a moment for Rhodey to pull himself out of that memory. His heart is pounding just thinking about it, and he’s not sure if the sight of this intact suit is adding to his upset. A small, irrational part of him is panicking at the thought of Tony getting into this suit, considering what happened to him the last time. Which he knows is ridiculous, but that small part of him is the same part that wouldn’t fully accept Tony’s death, and it turned out to be right.

Maybe a bit of it is some panic regarding his own suit too. Rhodey’s last few interactions with any of these suits didn’t end too well, and hell, this might be another of those things he’s been repressing that he’ll eventually need to work on. Even the faraway idea that someday, if this healing of his legs continues, he’ll be able to get back in the War Machine suit again—the thought sends a spike of fear through him, which irritates him. 

He’s dealt incredibly well with the injury, the invasion, and everything going on with Tony. He was trained to be able to deal with the worst possible situations, he’s seen missions go wrong before, he’s even had injuries before. None like this, but still, he knew the risks and he accepted the consequences. Even though he knows it doesn’t work like that, he can’t help but wish that all that conscious good work could stop his primal subconscious from freaking out. But he knows that all the logic in the world can’t soothe the instinctual fear at the thought of something that nearly killed him and _did_ kill his best friend.

He looks to Tony both to calm himself and to gauge whether his little moment of panic was noticed, but evidently it wasn’t. Tony is staring at the suit, a little glassy-eyed himself, possibly thinking of some of the same things. That possibility is what brings Rhodey’s worry—his mother-hen instincts, a rueful part of him thinks in Tony’s voice—to the forefront, overtaking his own personal feelings about the moment and instead focusing on Tony. “You okay?” he says softly, not wanting to startle Tony but also not wanting to leave him to wallow in memories of the day he died, if that’s what he’s doing.

Tony blinks and looks over at him. His expression is hard to decipher, but there’s no sign of outright fear or panic. It seems to be more like sadness, grief, and it’s only when he recognizes the expression that Rhodey realizes how little he’s seen of it lately. Tony’s baseline level of grief when he was resurrected has since improved to something close to neutral; it’s just happened so slowly that Rhodey hadn’t really noticed the change. Now, it’s almost disconcerting to see that sadness back again, something he thought he’d gotten used to.

“Just… remembering,” Tony says, and then sighs.

Rhodey hesitates before elaborating, “Siberia?”

Tony shakes his head. “No, not that. Just… when I was building this. Things were already falling apart, but I just… I used to think we could all do so much more. That we could be better, maybe, if I just… found the right balance, worked hard enough, put enough upgrades in the suit. When I was making this one, I just kept thinking of contingency plans. It didn’t used to be like that.”

The words make Rhodey’s heart ache for everything Tony’s lost, even before his death. He used to have such faith in the Avengers, and then that was broken down. By the others, by experience, sometimes by Tony himself. It seems, now, like they were doomed from the start, but Rhodey knows that it took time for that optimism to fade. Hearing it directly from Tony is painful.

“It doesn’t have to be like that again,” Rhodey says. “Maybe it’s the same suit, but everything else is so different, you’re practically starting with a blank slate here. You can do whatever you want with this, Tony.”

Tony nods. “I know. I think it’s a given that it’ll be different this time.”

Before Rhodey can decide whether that’s snark or not, Tony steps forward, reaching for the suit. There’s no more AI running the interface, and Rhodey’s not sure if the implants Tony used to have are still there after the changes to his body, so the suit doesn’t open when he approaches it. Rhodey’s not sure how Tony’s planning to open it up.

But Tony reaches out and puts his hand over the reactor in the chest, and something changes. There’s a slight whine as the suit powers up, the faceplate glowing as it apparently charges just from the contact with Tony. “Woah,” is all Rhodey can say. “Did you mean to do that?”

Tony frowns. “Sort of. I… thought maybe I could activate it with my powers. This is… weird.” He tilts his head to one side, then the other, like he’s listening to something only he can hear. Rhodey can only see the back of his head and the arm that’s outstretched, but unless he’s imagining it, Tony’s suddenly glowing a little brighter.

Rhodey sits forward, concerned. “What’s happening?”

There’s no answer, but just as Rhodey puts his hands on his chair to move forward, Tony makes a sound he can’t decipher. “Wow. It’s like I can… integrate with the system, almost,” he says. Rhodey doesn’t relax, not sure if this is a good thing or not. Tony mumbles a few things that Rhodey can’t catch, then abruptly stiffens, muscles locking.

Rhodey opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, then ends up shouting in alarm when Tony drops. The suit, still powered up, whirs and opens up, ready to receive its pilot, but Tony loses contact with it as he goes down, ending up in a heap on the floor between Rhodey and the suit.

Rhodey’s practically ready to throw himself out of his chair to make sure Tony’s okay, despite the past experience with the situation telling him that Tony’s probably fine, but this isn’t like the last couple times. Tony’s not out completely—he stirs almost immediately, muttering a slightly slurred “Rhodey?” and making a halfhearted effort to push himself up into a sitting position.

This, Rhodey can help with. He leans forward to get a grip under Tony’s uncoordinated arms and helps pull him up to sit down at Rhodey’s feet, leaning against his legs. They’ve been in this position before, but the familiarity does little to calm Rhodey’s racing heart. He’ll never be okay with seeing Tony suddenly drop like that.

He gives Tony a moment to compose himself and even out his strained breathing. When Tony reaches up and over his shoulder to grasp Rhodey’s hand, Rhodey considers him recovered enough to answer the obvious question. “What happened?” Wondering, clearly, if Tony suddenly regained some new emotional capability.

“Just… a lot of memories,” Tony says, and there’s an odd tone in his voice. When Rhodey makes a questioning noise, Tony pushes himself to stand, turning to face Rhodey, and Rhodey’s heart gives a happy lurch when he sees the broad smile blossoming on Tony’s face. 

“I remembered how it used to be,” Tony explains, and Rhodey understands that he’s referring to their conversation from just a few minutes ago. Apt, he thinks, that opening up the suit would have helped him remember exactly the things he was just talking about having forgotten. “Not that I ever forgot, exactly, but I remember the _feeling_ the first time I flew. What it used to be like to work on the suit. It was always so exciting, all the possibilities, coming up with ideas and then putting them into a real, physical thing. It was true creation.”

The words might be a little flowery and philosophical, but sure enough, there’s a sparkle in Tony’s eyes that Rhodey remembers from the early days, when Tony could go on for hours about what he was going to do with the suit, and the way he’d look when he emerged from the lab after a day-long binge of working on it or building a new one. True creation, indeed. Over time, that excitement had given way to dread and hurt, to fears and the memory of mistakes, and it had worn Tony down. But in the beginning, it was all about the thrill of creation, of something new. The look in Tony’s eyes right now, the remembered feelings he’s regained… this is the Tony that wrecked an F-16 and laughed about it.

Rhodey couldn’t be happier to see its return.

“I built it to fix my mistakes, you know,” Tony says, and though the smile fades, a ghost of it remains in the lightness in Tony’s features. Rhodey knows this, so he just nods, waiting for him to continue. “In the beginning, it was about going to find my weapons, figure out where I’d gone so wrong and protect the people I put in danger. And that was always on my mind, but when I was actually building it, testing it… I nearly forgot. And when I flew that first time, I think I _did_ forget, just for a minute. Forgot all my responsibilities, all my mistakes. For a minute, nothing mattered but that new feeling, that _joy_.”

“Is that what you’re feeling now? Joy?” Rhodey asks tentatively.

The shake of Tony’s head is understanding and apologetic. “I don’t think I’m there yet. I still don’t remember… _happy_. Not enough to feel it. But… the suit, it’s good. I think it’s going to be good for me. If nothing else, it’s reminding me why I wanted to be Iron Man in the first place.”

Tony glances back at the suit, standing open, waiting for him. “People always saw it as a weapon. They called it one, the government, the Avengers, the media, everyone. But it was never about that, not for me. It _has_ weapons, sure. They’re necessary parts of it, but… that’s not the whole thing. It’s not what the suit is about. It’s about protecting other people, and showing that I’m there and I’m going to be held accountable for what I do, that I won’t forget the impact I make on people’s lives.”

“All of your own values, in other words,” Rhodey says with a fond smile.

Tony shrugs. “I guess. I _am_ Iron Man, I meant it every time I’ve said it. The suit was never all of Iron Man. It’s a pure creative extension of myself. And having it back… it’s unlocking a lot of potential, I think. This is going to be good for me.” 

Tony smiles one more time. “I might not feel joy yet, but what just happened… I think what it brought back might have been something like _hope_. And for the first time… I feel like I might actually be happy again someday.”


	24. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here’s another chapter in a day! Sadly the next chapter won’t be up tomorrow, I have to spend some time working on my mom’s Christmas present, which is a 20+ hour project that I’ve been pretty much neglecting. I’m very excited to write the next one though (another character will be coming in, might be obvious by the end of this one) and it’ll be soon!

Time is strange.

It’s been nearly three weeks since Rhodey revealed his healing to Tony. Just about the same amount of time he spent in the camp during the invasion, but this has gone by both slower and so much faster. Months have passed now since Tony’s resurrection, and it’s almost hard to believe sometimes.

Everything is changing, and settling. Rhodey has a routine of regular leg exercises now, building up strength naturally in the muscles he can just barely control. It’s a vast improvement over before, even over a few weeks ago, but it’s still difficult. He’s just a human, after all, and under a lot of stress. There are days he’s angry, frustrated with his slow progress, sulking and trying—sometimes failing—to hide it from Tony.

Tony’s been a godsend through it all. Rhodey gets a squirming, uncomfortable feeling in his gut whenever he finds himself thinking gratefully about how the changes to Tony have made him more patient, but it’s true. Not that the old Tony wouldn’t have done everything he could to help Rhodey recover through this, but he would have been running himself into the ground, hiding his guilt and trying to come up with tech that could force the recovery to go faster. Toss in Tony’s own personality flaws—there were plenty of them—and they’d have clashed, butted heads, probably hurt each other. 

Instead, Tony is quietly supportive, never once complaining about any of Rhodey’s bad days, never striking back when Rhodey snaps at him. Which, of course, always makes Rhodey feel terrible; not that he wouldn’t have anyway for taking out his frustrations on Tony, who’s just trying to help, but the old Tony would likely have responded in kind, and they’d have gotten into an argument, then probably spent a while avoiding each other and cooling down. 

Now, Tony just takes whatever Rhodey throws at him calmly, and Rhodey immediately feels terrible and apologizes, and Tony always forgives him, every time. It’s mature and simple and Rhodey hates himself a little for being grateful for it, because it’s not some amazing emotional development for the both of them, it’s because of Tony’s emotional deficit. Sure, Tony’s old tendency to lash out when he was hurt or upset wasn’t the best, but it was _Tony_ and Rhodey feels like he shouldn’t be happy for its absence.

Still, those bad days are few and far between. Rhodey’s been doing remarkably well and he knows it; they both have. They can both sit down and talk about their feelings without it becoming awkward, and Rhodey’s progressing physically. He can just barely manage to stand now, with a lot of support. He can’t even think about trying to take a step yet, but considering that just a month ago standing was out of the question, he’s pretty damn overjoyed with this.

Tony spent the first day after going back into his lab taking apart and reworking the Iron Man suit that he’d found there. He’s able to “integrate” with the tech to an extent—at least that’s how he describes it—and control the suit from the outside the same way he could when there was an AI inside it. Tony’s always done nearly everything when it comes to actually piloting the suit, contrary to the beliefs of some of his former teammates, but FRIDAY, and JARVIS before her, used to be the ones to follow him if he stepped out, to open the suit up when he wanted to get inside it, and to control some of the auxiliary functions. Now, apparently, Tony can do most of that with just a thought. It doesn’t exactly freak Rhodey out—Tony was probably damn close to be being able to do that with technology anyway—but it’s certainly something new. But Tony seems perfectly comfortable with it, so Rhodey is too.

After tinkering with it for a day, Tony took the suit out for a short test flight. Any vague, unformed fears Rhodey had had about whether Tony would be able to handle all the input or pilot the suit the way he used to were immediately dispelled. Tony’s flight, the way he moved in the suit, everything was smoother than Rhodey’s ever seen it. Completely natural, and when he landed and emerged from the suit, he had another real smile on his face.

He spent another day messing with some of the headsets that will allow him to control the armor remotely. He’d confessed to Rhodey that while it’s amazing to be back in the suit again, he’d rather be physically present at SI most of the time, and mostly just piloting the suit remotely for things like building reconstruction. He also confessed that he’d like to stretch his new abilities a bit more, see how much control he can really have over the suit remotely without the aid of tech. With the tech as a backup ensuring that he’s not endangering anyone, neither of them could think of a reason not to. Of course, he’d spend some of his time physically present at remote sites, connecting with people and taking a direct role in the action.

Once he was sure he was comfortable piloting the suit, Tony immediately went to the local news to announce his intention to help out with the reconstruction. He and Rhodey had agreed that that was the best thing to do; after all, people were sure to notice Iron Man’s return the moment the suit took to the skies. Tony wanted to be transparent about what he could, letting the public know what he was doing and reassuring them that he was improving.

Even now, there are still displaced people, though the majority are due to property damage rather than inability to get home, with the few exceptions mainly being people from other countries. There’s a rare plane back in the air now, but it’s mostly supply delivery and as far as Rhodey’s aware, there haven’t been any cross-continental trips yet. With most people back home—whether their original homes or somewhere new and semi-permanent—the news stations have mostly moved on to organizational efforts, new government, and occasionally the kinds of things they used to report on in between. Inane everyday things, stories from random citizens, weather. The kinds of things that will bring a little bit of much-needed normalcy to people whose spirits have been beaten down by the constant tide of bad news, destruction, and the unending stress of rebuilding.

Predictably, as soon as Tony went to the news to announce that he was coming back as Iron Man, he was barraged with requests for help, interview requests, invitations to events and places, and question after question about himself, Thanos, his new appearance and powers, his plans for the future, even Rhodey. The mountain of requests and invitations from various outside sources came later, once Tony’s information had actually gone onto the news; the immediate questions and requests for further interviews came from the people right at the station where he’d gone to make this announcement. Thankfully, they’d decided beforehand that simply going there unannounced and letting the journalists know what to tell people would probably be a better idea than trying to call some sort of press conference.

Of course, he was asked about his future plans, and what Iron Man’s return would mean for the future of superheroes and the planet. Rhodey, who didn’t go along, got all of this information secondhand from Tony later, but he trusts Tony’s recollection and confidence that he handled their questions with the usual amount of suave maneuvering. Avoiding giving a real answer with some vague words and deflection, and doing it so skillfully that those asking didn’t even realize what was done; that, Tony was taught from a young age. Tony was certainly right a while ago, when he told Rhodey that he’s still perfectly capable of handling the media.

And thankfully, the barebones version of media they have now is doing little more than just reporting straight facts and statements. If an announcement like this had been made before the invasion, there would be a thousand and one people picking apart Tony’s every word, every motion, trying to find hidden meanings in all of it. They’d obsess over the fact that he chose not to appear on camera to make his announcement. They’d speculate about everything and come up with a hundred different theories.

Instead, they simply reported exactly what Tony told them, which was that Iron Man was going be back out again, either with Tony inside, working alongside, or remotely piloting it. Requests began pouring in for his help immediately, and Rhodey quickly got Tony to agree to recruit a few willing SI people to take over creating some form of organization for requests for his time, reading each and deciding where he’d be best suited to go.

They set up some sort of a system and Tony started working around the city, and even outside of it, quickly. Naturally, along with his return as Iron Man—and in conjunction with the broad return of functioning internet for most people—he quickly became a major focus of the public. Crowds gather where he goes out to work a few times a week, and pictures and videos of him start circulating immediately. 

Rhodey occasionally goes through some of the things online, curious, and smiles at what he sees. Iron Man cutting rubble into chunks with his repulsors; the suit on one end of a large steel girder, holding it up while Tony himself stands on the other end, lifting it with his powers; Tony in street clothes dusted with dirt and rubble, sitting with a construction crew and eating lunch. All things that will not only inspire the public, but give humanity to Tony’s image.

People are speculating, of course, over the internet—people will be people, after all. There are a dozen different working theories about Tony’s powers and what’s going on behind closed doors in the Tower. But now that Tony’s baseline expression has pretty much reverted to neutral, he no longer passes out after pushing himself to work too hard, and he smiles when it’s appropriate, Rhodey doesn’t have much cause to worry that people will find out about what’s going on with his emotions. There’s still an air of awe to everything Rhodey sees about him online and in photos, stopping people from questioning so much. It will fade with time, but for now it’s a good thing, helping to buffer any suspicions anyone might have about Tony while giving him a chance to recover further.

There are old photos out there, too, ones that people took shortly after the end of the invasion. These are fewer, and thankfully the scale of the destruction and what had just happened to Tony seems to be enough to excuse the terrible, grief-stricken expression he always wore back then. God, Rhodey hadn’t even remembered how bad it was, he’d become so used to it, but now that it’s faded, seeing it in photographic evidence makes him want to thank a deity he doesn’t believe in that Tony could ever recover from that. How he managed to keep going when he was unable to feel _anything_ but grief is beyond Rhodey’s ability to imagine.

The other thing these old photos make obvious to Rhodey is how much Tony’s physical appearance has changed, too. What he thought he saw in Tony’s eyes a while back was real: Tony’s glow has definitely lessened. _Diminished_ doesn’t seem to be the right word; Tony’s as ethereal and awe-inspiring as ever, but there’s definitely a change to him. He no longer looks like he would light up a room in the dark, or like staring at him too long might cause blindness. Now he just looks like he’s covered in luminescent tattoos.

Though Tony’s now going out a few times a week to physically help with the reconstruction, most of his work is with SI, behind the scenes. They’re still sending out massive amounts of products and resources to the areas that need the most help, and they’re still trying to coordinate their national and international sites, bringing employees back into work and making sure their own families are taken care of before they ask anyone to start working for the good of others. However, around the globe, the response has been the same as here in New York. With or without Tony’s physical presence to inspire them, people everywhere are coming in to work, putting everything they have into helping others even when their own situations aren’t entirely stable yet.

Tony’s taken over as CEO, which for now mostly involves coordination of the different branches and executive decisions as to how best to divide up their resources and manpower. But Tony’s biggest impact is, of course, in the lab, where he’s working constantly to improve their tech, come up with new ideas that could help with the reconstruction, and find ways to conserve resources in manufacturing and distribution. 

Rhodey’s happy to see Tony working so much, really stretching his imagination and his creative abilities. It’s clearly good for him, emotionally and socially. SI employees who work regularly with him are comfortable around him now where they weren’t at the beginning, and Rhodey knows Tony will soon be back to the front of magazines and newspapers, the face of tech innovation and the reconstruction efforts. 

After months of working through it, being there every step of the way, Rhodey has naturally done a lot of thinking about the nature of Tony’s current issues. He’s come to the conclusion—knowing that it’s not a perfect example, but also that he can’t possibly truly understand what it’s like to be Tony, so a metaphor will have to do—that Tony’s emotional problems are something like depression. They’re varied and terrible and they want to drag him down from the inside, not only make him miserable but also make him feel like happiness isn’t achievable.

The other parallel to depression that seems glaringly obvious to Rhodey is that there’s not a simple fix to it. Rhodey’s been acting like somewhat of a therapist to Tony—and Tony to him as well—but in the end, it’s all up to Tony to pull himself out of this, and all Rhodey can do is provide as much support as possible and hope that he’s helping. He can’t really do anything to change their situation, and there’s no medication out there that could provide any help to Tony, so Tony’s left in the impossible situation of trying to recover emotions that he can’t feel. Trying to find his way out of a dark room when he can’t even see the door—when he’s not even sure the door exists.

Rhodey’s grateful every day that Tony seems to be finding that door on his own, because Rhodey has no clue how to show it to him. All he can do is sit back, be supportive, and thank everything that exists that Tony is showing such incredible improvement. His work with SI, the stabilization of his powers, and now being back in the suit, all of those things seem to be helping him to lift himself out of this, regain his emotions. 

Rhodey’s resolved, of course, to keep an eye on him as he takes on more and more responsibility. Though working hard for the benefit of himself and others seems to be helping him, Rhodey can easily see that turning into old-Tony levels of heaped on responsibilities, too much work, sleepless nights and stress and a downslide into bad habits and worse feelings. But for now, they’re both riding a high of improvement.

It’s a day that Tony’s been out working alongside the headset-piloted suit, using his powers and his tech in a beautifully integrated dance, while Rhodey has been in meetings in his stead all day, that and in and out of the lab. His legs are aching—they tend to do that more and more now that he’s working them so hard, an unfortunate side effect of returning muscle function but one he’ll gladly take—and he’s excited when he finally returns to their private floor of the Tower.

He’s putting himself through a series of painful but ultimately satisfying stretches in his braces when Tony comes home, greeting him with a smile before heading to the bathroom to rinse off the sweat of a physically demanding day and the dust settled in his hair and on his clothes. 

When Tony comes out, Rhodey is standing ready next to some of the equipment they’ve been using for physical therapy. Following their usual routine, Tony adjusts the braces to provide minimal support while they work through a few exercises. Rhodey notes with pride that the level that constitutes ‘minimal support’ has been nudged down yet again, for the second time in just three days.

They move seamlessly through the exercises, Rhodey tiring fast, but not as fast as he did even just a week ago. When they’re done, Rhodey moves to his place between two handrails, shifting most of his weight to his arms in preparation for Tony to remove the braces completely. He’ll put as much of his weight as possible on his own legs and work on just standing for as long as he can, and then Tony will get him back into his chair. 

Tony kneels down in front of him, tapping at the panel on the side of his leg to remove the braces, but suddenly stops in the middle of what he’s doing.

Rhodey waits a beat, thinking for a second that maybe Tony’s coming up with a new idea or even just feeling a sneeze coming on or something. But when he sees the tense set of Tony’s shoulders, he goes on alert. “What’s wrong?” 

Tony doesn’t look up at him or reply, but he jabs a few more buttons on the panel and Rhodey feels the braces reengage, returning full support to him, and that’s answer enough. Tony straightens in front of him and Rhodey shifts one foot back into an approximation of a fighting stance, not sure exactly what he’s preparing for.

Tony’s staring at a point over Rhodey’s shoulder, but his eyes are unfocused, and Rhodey gets the distinct feeling that he’s sensing something Rhodey can’t. Rhodey reaches forward to put a hand on Tony’s arm, but before he can get there, there’s a soft sound in the room and Tony’s head whips around to look. Less than a half second behind him, Rhodey reacts to the sound too, turning to face the room just as a bright golden light erupts in the air several yards away.


	25. Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early Christmas present for you all (though depending on what else I have to do and how fast it gets done, there may be another coming), the long-awaited beginning of real plot! Just a preview of serious things to come, and there's still going to be plenty of fluff and such. I still have at least two more characters to bring in, one very soon ;)

Tony and Rhodey are rooted to the spot, staring at the place where golden light has sprouted in the middle of their living room. After a second of staring, he realizes the light isn’t one cohesive thing—it’s spitting golden sparks, reminding Rhodey of a firework going off. 

As they watch, it expands, opening up into a circle. Rhodey has enough time to think _not another fucking portal_ and then Tony is stepping in front of him, half shielding him with his own body. Rhodey’s too focused on the portal to give thought to any sort of amusement at Tony’s protective tendencies or disgruntlement at being defended like some damsel in distress. 

There’s a second of delay and then a form appears in the center of the portal—Rhodey tenses further and sees Tony do the same in front of him. Whoever’s coming through, they seem to be shaped like a human, but that doesn’t mean they are.

The person comes through the portal fully, details solidifying, but Rhodey barely gets half a second to try to take the man in before Tony flings out an arm in front of him and in the space of a heartbeat, a shimmering, translucent blue barrier appears between them and the portal. Rhodey’s never seen anything like it, but he instantly knows that it came from Tony, not whoever is coming through the portal.

The newcomer stops short at the sight of it as the golden portal fades away behind him. In this high-pressure situation, Rhodey can’t take even a moment to be surprised at this new ability of Tony’s, though he wishes he had time to question Tony about it. Instead, he shifts a bit from behind Tony to get a better look at the man.

The barrier Tony created is giving everything a slight blue tint, but details are still clear. The man in front of them looks human, as far as Rhodey can tell, but then, so did Thor and Loki. He’s tall, with dark hair and styled facial hair to rival Tony’s, but his most immediately noteworthy feature is his choice of clothing: some kind of fancy tunic wrapped with leather straps and a long, ostentatious cloak combine to make him look like he stepped off the cover of a fantasy novel.

The man, or whatever he is, steps forward and gives Tony’s barrier an appraising look, arching an eyebrow. “Impressive,” he says. Rhodey notes the deep voice and apparent American accent, though he knows from experience that doesn’t mean anything in terms of him necessarily being a human.

The man turns his attention from the barrier to Tony, but when he does, his brow furrows and he puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender, backing up a step. Stuck behind him and boxed in by the support railings they use for his physical therapy, Rhodey can’t see Tony’s face, but he can imagine his expression. He certainly wouldn’t want to be staring down a resurrected, Infinity Stone-powered Tony Stark whose home had just been broken into.

Evidently the man realizes this, because he keeps his hands up as he says, “I’m not here to harm you. Either of you,” he adds, eyes flicking to Rhodey, who tries to adopt a menacing expression.

That’s assuming that he _could_ harm Tony, Rhodey thinks, glancing over the new blue barrier. He narrows his eyes at the man, having a hard time believing that he’s here peacefully when he just violated their living space without warning. 

Tony doesn’t respond directly to that, just demands, “Who are you?”

The man lowers his hands to his sides. “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange. I am one of the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj and the Sorcerer Supreme.”

Fancy titles, none of which mean anything to Rhodey. Or to Tony, if his stiff posture and still-raised hand are anything to go by. “What are you doing here?” Tony grits out, and Rhodey can’t help but glance at him, wishing he could see his face. The tightness in his tone could be attributed just to the presence of this stranger in their home unexpectedly, but Rhodey knows Tony, and there’s something else going on here.

“I’ve come to tell you of some matters I believe you need to be aware of, and to seek your assistance with a… potential problem.”

“Are you from Asgard?” Rhodey asks before Tony can respond. He certainly talks like one of them—if he is a human, he’s a pretentious one.

Strange frowns, looking at Rhodey, and the honest confusion that crosses his face convinces Rhodey of the truth of his answer. “No, I’m from Earth. Entirely human,” he says, gesturing vaguely to himself. 

“Why are you here?” Tony repeats, voice still flat and cold.

“I told you, I came to—” 

“I heard you,” Tony snaps, cutting off whatever Strange was about to say. “Make me aware of some things. Ask for my help. Why are you _here_ , in my living room?”

Strange opens his mouth, then closes it, clearly wrong-footed, which pisses Rhodey off. He can’t imagine what would have made this man think that bursting in on them, unannounced, via a magical portal, would be received as anything but a threat and an invasion.

“I am used to operating in secrecy. I didn’t want to try just walking in through the front door, risking being seen by too many people, or being turned away at the front desk,” Strange finally says.

“Most people would take that risk,” Rhodey snaps, as irritated by the invasion of their home as Tony is. “You could have at least teleported in downstairs. Not ten feet away from us.”

“This is a matter of some importance,” Strange says with a frown, the sarcasm obvious in his tone. “I suppose I thought getting to you quickly was more important than being delayed by your security or thrown out because they believe me to be insane. If you knew what this was about, I think you’d agree with me.”

“Of course I know what this is about,” Tony snaps, which causes both Strange and Rhodey to look at him in surprise. This is news to Rhodey, but Tony clearly doesn’t know the guy, so he has no idea how Tony knows what this is. Unless he’s bluffing, but Rhodey doubts that. He’ll just have to wait and see—he trusts Tony, whatever it is that he’s doing. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have sent a letter ahead. Or knocked,” Tony says, voice still tight with whatever it is that’s freaking him out more than the situation seems to warrant. It’s that that has Rhodey on edge more than Strange’s words or his appearance.

Strange tilts his head. “Well, I’m here, and if you know what it’s about, then you know it’s important. So please, take down your shield. I only came to talk to you. I have absolutely no desire to go up against you in a fight.”

That doesn’t mollify Rhodey—or Tony, judging by the stiffness in Tony’s body that doesn’t let up—but Tony does lower his hand, slowly, and the blue barrier fades away. After a few seconds’ pause and silent posturing between the two men, Tony steps forward, gesturing to one of the long curved sofas. Rhodey sees Strange glance at the equipment, at Rhodey’s chair nearby, and then at the braces on his legs as they move, but none of them say anything about it. 

They move to sit, all three of them wound tight. Rhodey would feel more comfortable having a gun with him, but he’s aware that anyone calling themselves the Sorcerer Supreme—assuming that the title isn’t just a completely meaningless ego trip—is probably beyond being able to be harmed with simple bullets. And Rhodey trusts Tony to have his back in magical matters.

When Strange goes to sit down, his cloak floats upward without a breeze and settles behind him so that he doesn’t sit on it. Rhodey’s eyes track the movement, and almost as if the thing can see him watching it, it flutters. Strange, noting the movement, mutters, “Behave,” and it settles down. Another damn magical thing, and Rhodey can’t help but watch it, wanting to ask about it, but knowing there are more important things to be discussed.

“So, you said you know what this is about,” Strange starts as soon as they’ve all settled down. Rhodey can hear the question in it.

Tony just stares at Strange for a moment, and Rhodey takes the opportunity to look at Tony now that he can actually see his face. His jaw is set, as tense as the rest of his body, but his eyes have a wide, slightly wild look to them that Rhodey recognizes as fear, and it tilts Rhodey’s stomach. Before Rhodey can examine him further, he says, “I know what you’re carrying. I assume that’s why you’re here.”

Strange nods and picks up the heavy thing he’s been wearing around his neck, holding it up. It’s large, intricately carved, and Rhodey’s first impression is that it’s gaudy as hell and looks uncomfortable to wear. Clearly, however, from the way Strange is holding it up and Tony is looking at it like it might explode, it’s something important. An inkling of understanding and suspicion comes to Rhodey.

“This contains an Infinity Stone,” Strange says, “specifically the Time Stone.”

“Shit,” Rhodey bursts out. Tony’s eyes haven’t left the thing since Strange held it up, and Rhodey doesn’t like that.

“The sorcerers of Kamar-Taj are a group of magic users dedicated to protecting the Earth and guarding magical knowledge and relics. They’ve been keeping watch over this, what they call the Eye of Agamotto, for centuries.”

Tony, still watching the thing warily, doesn’t seem inclined to respond, so Rhodey does instead. “You’re underground? We’ve never heard of you.”

“Not exactly underground. There are places in the world where the locals at least know of our existence, even if they don’t know exactly what we are.” Strange says it with a rueful smile that speaks of personal experience, but Rhodey isn’t particularly interested in whatever memory he’s lost in. “But we certainly don’t announce ourselves to the world or anything. We consider staying quiet and unobtrusive to be the best way to protect magical relics and avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

Rhodey frowns, not sure if there’s supposed to be some sort of a reprimand in there regarding the Avengers or not. Strange has a slightly condescending attitude about him that irks Rhodey, but there are more important things at hand, and he can’t let that distract him. “So you protect the Stone that’s in there.” A thought comes to him. “Is that what Thanos was searching for—what was keeping him from just killing us all?”

“Yes,” Tony says, and Strange and Rhodey both turn to look at him. “It’s the last one. Thanos was searching for it, he knew it was on Earth but not where. That’s why they set up checkpoints and why they took people the way they did. They needed the opportunity to search for magical traces on every human before blindly killing them all. And Thanos assumed that if whoever had it stashed it away before being brought to the camps and searched, the protections would weaken and he could find it later.” Tony shakes his head. “It was frustrating him, but he couldn’t pinpoint its location, not even with the other Stones. I couldn’t either, when I was in contact with the others, I knew it was on Earth but not where, like it was… cloaked.”

Strange frowns again. “Well yes, it’s kept under various magical protections. I would have assumed you knew that.” He says it like it’s obvious, but Rhodey’s confused. They clearly just learned about the existence of this group of sorcerers.

“How?” Tony asks, sharing a quick, confused glance with Rhodey.

Strange gestures to Tony. “I could feel your energy already examining mine before I even stepped through the portal. You were clearly ready for my arrival, you’re obviously in tune with movements on other planes of existence. Usually something unique to sorcerers, but with your new powers, I assumed it was because you’re aware of other magic users.”

Tony shakes his head quickly, leaning forward. His voice is as intense as the look in his eyes. “I barely know anything about magic. I knew you were coming because you’re carrying an Infinity Stone. As soon as you had intent to come here, I could feel it, because you’re so close to it.” When this only nets him a confused look from Strange, he sits up straighter. “You know how powerful it is, right? It knows what you’re doing, what you’re thinking. It’s sentient and it’s _watching_ you.” 

Tony looks just about on the edge of panic. Rhodey subtly lays a hand on his arm and he closes his eyes, sitting back again and taking a deep breath. Strange looks perhaps a bit unsettled, but he still manages to sit there calmly, watching them. “Why did you bring it here?” Tony asks when he’s resettled himself.

“I helped my fellow sorcerers hide it from Thanos, along with most of the rest of the magical relics we protect. But after he was gone, some other questions came up, questions I can’t answer. As far as I’m aware, you’re the authority on the Infinity Stones. I need your advice.”

“How did you keep everything from Thanos?” Tony asks. “I didn’t know there were magic users on Earth, at least… not organized ones. Not large groups of them.” Rhodey thinks of Maximoff. Not organized, indeed. “When I was in contact with the Stones, I could only feel that the Time Stone was on the planet, not any of the other relics you’re talking about. And I couldn’t tell that there were spells on it.”

Strange shakes his head, and Rhodey sees a familiar haunted expression overtake his face. “We hid, for the most part. There were… some disagreements about how to handle the situation. There were those among us who wanted to fight rather than hide, and in the end, they did. They died—we all knew they would. Their opinion, when the battles started, was that we were going to be overtaken no matter what, and they thought we should go down fighting rather than hide. Normally I’d have agreed with them. But once I knew who Thanos was and that he was after the Infinity Stones, I knew the power and the importance of what we were protecting. I knew that if there was even the slightest chance that we could keep Thanos from getting his hands on what we had, then we had to do everything we could. And thanks to you,” he inclined his head to Tony, “we succeeded.”

Tony doesn’t respond, so Strange continues. “I mastered the basics of the mystical arts and then became the Sorcerer Supreme very quickly, and rather suddenly. There were some people at Kamar-Taj who were unhappy with it, to say the least, claiming that I hadn’t been studying magic nearly long enough to take on the role. But I was confident in my abilities, sure that if the raw talent was there, there was no need for long years of experience. However… what happened with Thanos made it clear that there was truth to what they said. I may be powerful, but I don’t know very much at all about this.” He indicates the pendant again. “Seeing as Thanos killed half a billion people and would have destroyed the planet just to find it, I figured I should come to you and find out more about it.”

He and Tony spend a long moment just staring at each other. Rhodey breaks the spell when he speaks up again. “Okay, so the invasion made you want to bring it to Tony, sure. But why now? It’s been months. You clearly know where we live. Why wait this long?”

Strange gives Tony another appraising look. “There are a lot of rumors about what, exactly, happened between you and Thanos, and not a lot of confirmed facts. You clearly took the rest of the Infinity Stones from him, you gained some of their powers, you killed him. But beyond that, I had no way of knowing exactly what you might have been turned into.” Rhodey suppresses the urge to flinch at the harsh words, knowing it was a fear of Tony’s—and possibly still is. He can’t help the tiny spark of anger at this stranger who didn’t have to face Thanos or live through the camps, barging into their home and having the nerve to tell Tony he might be a monster because of what Thanos did to him.

“I’ve been following the news, watching for signs of your movements,” Strange says. “Waiting to see exactly what you were, and what you were planning to do. If you decided to try to take over the world yourself, I don’t know if I’d have any chance of stopping you—not when you have the other Stones—but I could at least take this one back into hiding if it seemed like you were going to pick up where Thanos left off.” Rhodey narrows his eyes at that, not liking the direction this conversation is taking.

“But,” Strange continues, “you never made a single move that seemed like you were planning to hurt anyone. You were seen using the power of the Stones, sure, but just for rebuilding. And then, just recently, I started seeing stories about Iron Man coming back. I saw you in the suit on the news, and I figured that was proof enough that you’re still yourself. I considered it safe enough to seek you out.”

There’s a pause at the end of his speech, and then Tony says, “You’re wrong.” Strange tenses a little. “About the Stones,” Tony clarifies, seeing it, and Strange slowly relaxes again. “I don’t have them. When I was… fighting with Thanos,” he says slowly, and Rhodey can tell that he’s uncomfortable sharing more personal details of what was done to him than necessary, “I could feel them, their sentience, and how dangerous they were. So I destroyed them. The Time Stone was the only one Thanos didn’t have. You’re holding the only Infinity Stone that still exists.”

“Yet you’ve been using their powers,” Strange says, suspicion clear in his voice.

“Not exactly theirs. They left a sort of… imprint of their powers on me. Something I’m able to access and use, but the Stones themselves are gone. It was the only way to get rid of them and be sure no one else could use them like Thanos did. Or use them at all. Not even me. I’d have been taken over. They’re too powerful to try to control.”

Strange opens his mouth at that, hesitant. “I can use this one,” he says slowly. “I have, before.”

“You’ve _used_ it?” Rhodey says, incredulous, and Strange puts a hand over the pendant almost protectively.

“At the time I first did, I didn’t know it was an Infinity Stone. It was just the Eye of Agamotto, a powerful relic that not many could harness the power of. I was… arrogant, and convinced I could do it. I could,” he says, matter-of-fact, but then his face darkens, “but trust me, I learned some valuable lessons in doing so. I don’t use it blithely.”

Rhodey has to hold back a snort at his use of _was_ , as though he’s not still obviously an arrogant bastard, but again, more important things to focus on. “That doesn’t seem possible. How do we know you haven’t been taken over by it?”

Tony shakes his head. “If it were in control, he’d be using it all the time. And he’d never have come here. But if it’s already contained within another magical object, its reach might be lessened. And it could be… less volatile than some of them.”

“How is that?” Rhodey asks, remembering the way Tony talked about them on the night he was resurrected—like if he’d waited a moment longer to destroy them, he’d have been consumed by them the same way Thanos was. Rhodey has a hard time seeing this one as anything less than deadly and volatile.

“With the gauntlet, it was all of them together, sort of a mixed sentience. Together, they were more powerful, they… fed off of each other. But even then, I could tell there were differences. The Power Stone was easily the worst, in terms of corrupting its users, wanting violence and destruction. Soul was probably the calmest,” Tony says. “It didn’t really matter. With all of them together, they were too much for anyone to have control of. I had no choice but to destroy them. But if this one is contained, and less likely to influence its surroundings, it’s possible that it won’t corrupt anyone the same way the others did. You said it’s been around your sorcerers for centuries?” he asks Strange, who nods in confirmation. “Then, as long as it’s been used very sparingly, I’d say it’s not very active.”

Rhodey shakes his head at all of this. He needs to get to the heart of the matter. “Okay, but… why did you bring it here? What do you want Tony to do?” 

Strange looks down at the thing. “After seeing what Thanos did… I can’t help but worry that the same thing will happen again, as long as this one is here. Even with all our protections in place, you said Thanos knew it was on this planet. If he knew, then others can find out too. I can’t let it bring someone like Thanos down on us again.”

He might be an arrogant sorcerer who broke into their home without warning with the expectation that they’d drop everything to talk to him, but Rhodey sees a common fear in him, and that goes a long way towards making Rhodey trust him. He wants to keep the world safe, to prevent another Thanos, and Rhodey can certainly relate.

Tony thinks for a moment, staring at the Eye where it rests against Strange’s chest. “How many other people know about it?” he finally asks.

“Only the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj should know of its existence,” Strange says, “and most of them don’t know it’s an Infinity Stone; just that it’s a powerful relic that I can control. I can only think of… four people still alive, myself included, who know exactly what it is, and only one other person knew I was bringing it here today. I’d trust him with my life. I keep it under magical guard, even against other sorcerers, or on my person at all times, and it’s very well hidden.”

“Not well enough, if Thanos knew about it,” Rhodey says. “If you really want to keep the world safe, it needs to be destroyed, just like the others.”

Strange gives him an unreadable look and Rhodey stares back, challenging him. “If that was the best course of action, would you hand it over? Let Tony destroy it?”

Strange narrows his eyes at him, but he nods after a moment’s hesitation. “Yes. If we agreed that’s what’s best and I knew he could do it, I’d hand it over. I told you, I understand how dangerous it is. I don’t use it for fun, you know.”

Rhodey wants to say something back, but Tony is shaking his head again. “I don’t know that I could destroy it,” he says, then sighs when both Rhodey and Strange turn to look at him, surprised. “My powers came from the Infinity Stones, so I probably have at least _something_ that could hope to match the power of the Time Stone, but that’s not how I got rid of the others. I had a connection with them because of Thanos, and I used that to turn them on each other when they were most active. I used their own power to create a sort of… implosion, and I don’t know that what they left in me is enough to do the same thing to this one.”

Tony pauses, staring once more at the Eye, then looks up to Strange. “If something happened, if we were sure it was active or threatening to bring someone else like Thanos down on us, I think I could do it, if I had to. But I’m still learning my abilities, strengthening my control. Honestly, if it’s a matter of _when_ we destroy it, I’d feel more comfortable waiting until I’m more confident I can do it.”

Rhodey’s proud of him for accepting this uncertainty and knowing his limits, even if Strange looks a little skeptical. “Will you know? If it’s attracting someone else?” Strange asks.

“I’m not entirely sure. With the destruction Thanos caused around the galaxy looking for the Stones, I’d say there isn’t likely to be a contender any time soon, but that’s just a guess. I do know that Thanos didn’t always know it was here. It’s been here for centuries, but he only found out recently, as in within the last few years.”

Strange’s eyes widen at that, and Tony gives him a knowing look. “Based on what you said, I’d guess that’s when you first used it. From what I learned from my contact with them and Thanos, the more they’re used, the more of a… signal they send out. The more noticeable they are to others. I think, as long as you’re not using this one, it should be safe for a while.”

Strange nods, but then he puts a hand up to the Eye again and sits back, looking contemplative once more. “I can’t help but think about what exactly it does, how I’ve used it before, and what that could mean. Now, I’m not saying we go ahead and do this, understand, I’m just putting a theory out there.”

He waits for Tony and Rhodey to nod, which they do reluctantly, cautious. “It would be a pretty big leap,” Strange starts, “and a huge use of the Stone, which I know you just cautioned against. But… in theory, the Time Stone could be used to reverse everything Thanos did to the Earth.”

There’s an excited gleam in Strange’s eyes. “Picture the possibilities. Millions of lives that were lost, not to mention all the damage, all fixed. And again, in theory, it could potentially lead to a peaceful galaxy. While the Stone could reverse what was done to the planet, it couldn’t recreate the others. We could go back far enough to undo everything Thanos did, but he wouldn’t have any of the Stones.”

He looks back and forth from Rhodey to Tony, but stops short at the look on Tony’s face, and so does Rhodey. The wild-eyed fear is back in Tony’s eyes, but it’s never been so intense. He’s glowing brighter than he was before, and his fists are clenched at his sides. He’s poised at the very edge of the couch like he might spring to his feet any second. He creates a picture that’s honestly terrifying, and Strange recoils a little—only Rhodey’s utter trust in Tony keeps him from doing the same.

“No,” Tony says, the one word ringing between them like a command. “Under no circumstances can that ever happen. _Any_ of that. I don’t care what you’ve done with the Stone before; you _cannot do that_. Using that much power from an Infinity Stone, trying to change things that happened that involved the other Stones, and after so much time, after so much happened? Not only would it be volatile and _completely_ unpredictable—seriously, you have no idea what would happen, for all you know trying to screw with it would somehow give Thanos control of the Stone—but using that much of the Stone’s power at once, it would enslave you to it. Whatever you’ve done with it before, it’s nothing compared to what you’re proposing. You’d be completely gone, taken over by the Stone’s will, its need for chaotic change.” Tony’s breathing hard, and Rhodey’s at least gratified to see that Strange’s attention is completely captured. “Tell me you understand.”

Strange nods, putting up a hand in surrender. “I do. I came to you because you know more about the Stones than I do. I may have used this one before, but you’re right, never to that extent, and I understand what you’re saying. It was just a thought. But you’re right, there are too many unpredictable variables. I can promise you I won’t try it.”

Tony sits back once more, letting out a breath and closing his eyes again. Rhodey can tell that the conversation is hitting him hard, and he doesn’t think being around the Stone is good for Tony. Tony forces his eyes open again, however, and addresses Strange once more. “I appreciate you coming to me. Letting me know about it. You didn’t have to do that, and I understand that I can’t tell you what to do. But you came for my advice, so here it is. If you want to keep it safe from others like Thanos, keep it hidden. Keep it protected, put even more spells on it, whatever it is you do. Make sure as few people know about it as possible, and don’t use it any more than absolutely necessary.”

Tony slumps back, looking exhausted, and it’s clear that the conversation is coming to an end. Strange clears his throat and then stands, straightening out his sleeves while his apparently magical cloak—Rhodey had nearly forgotten about it—settles itself, fluffing out around him, collar curling out.

Tony and Rhodey stand as well. Strange nods to Rhodey politely and turns to Tony again. “Well, thank you for the information. It’s good to know that there’s someone else out there looking out for everyone. We may find ourselves working together in the future, but for now, if it’s acceptable to you, I’ll go back to my people and make sure this,” he pats the Eye, “stays well protected. If something comes up that requires using it… I’ll inform you.”

Rhodey wishes they could have more of a guarantee about that, but he understands what Tony meant when he said they have no right to tell Strange how to handle his affairs. He really doesn’t want to fight over who gets to watch over the Infinity Stone, and from the look of Tony right now, Rhodey’s not sure he’d want that responsibility, anyway. He nods, though Strange really isn’t looking at him, and so does Tony.

“Thank you,” Tony says, but Strange doesn’t answer, already turning away. He puts his hands in the air and makes a circling motion, drawing forth another golden portal, then disappears through it without another word.


	26. Second Guessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it’s once again been a long time, oops. I did release an entire new story in that time, but I’m sorry for not updating this one. I hope everyone remembers what happened during Strange’s visit, because this chapter is the immediate aftermath of that. The next one is a sort of fluffy interlude, and then the one after that (28) is one that I know a lot of people have been waiting for! You’ll be excited, I promise.

As soon as Strange disappears, Tony lets out a heavy breath and all the tension goes out of his body. He slumps against Rhodey, boneless, and Rhodey puts his arms around him as he lets out his own deep sigh.

“So. Not the kind of news I was prepared for today.” Rhodey says, testing the waters.

Tony snorts into his shoulder, but he sighs again and pushes himself upright. “I don’t know if it’s better or not that I know where it is now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to hear that there’s someone protecting it, someone who wants to keep it out of other people’s hands as much as we do. And it’s not like I’d forgotten about it, just…”

“Now you have to worry about it all the time?” Rhodey offers, and Tony nods.

“It makes me a little itchy to just let it leave, but I’m also sort of relieved,” Tony confesses. “I don’t like it being around me. I hate the feeling it gives me, and part of me is glad someone else is dealing with it for now. Is that bad?”

He looks to Rhodey, that familiar look that makes Rhodey’s chest ache, the one that says Tony is thinking the worst of himself and Rhodey’s the only one who has a hope of dissuading him. “It’s not bad, Tony. I could see how much it freaked you out before I even knew what it was. If Strange and his people have been protecting it this long, I think it’s safe to say they don’t have as strong a reaction to it.”

Tony makes a complicated face at that, and Rhodey grimaces, having an idea what Tony’s thinking. “Everything happens to you, doesn’t it?” he says gently.

Tony doesn’t smile, however, just looks at him. “I wouldn’t say that.” He doesn’t actually look down at Rhodey’s legs, but he doesn’t need to. There’s a moment of silence between them, not uncomfortable but not quite comfortable either. Rhodey knows very well that Tony still carries guilt about what happened to him, both before Thanos and after, and it’s something he might never let go of. It’ll take time, and Rhodey needs to give him that. He has some of his own regrets and guilt about what’s happened in Tony’s life, too, and Tony gives him the space and time to deal with it. Sometimes they just need to be left alone to feel things—he knows that, even if it’s hard to do.

Tony breaks the silence by voicing Rhodey’s next thought out loud. “The thing that worries me about that is that they won’t know if something happens.”

Rhodey frowns. “You think Strange won’t be able to sense changes in it like you would?”

“It’s hard to say. He’s used it before, he might know it even better than I do. I mean, the others were dangerous, volatile… but maybe that was because of Thanos and the way he used them. Maybe I’m just overly sensitive to them, paranoid because of what the others did.”

“No,” Rhodey shakes his head, “I don’t think you are. From what you said about that little scene on the Helicarrier back during the Loki thing, and what it did to Ultron, hell, to Maximoff, the Mind stone was definitely pretty damn volatile before Thanos got his hands on it.” Of course, Vision was the exception to that, but Rhodey secretly thinks Tony has a hell of a lot to do with that.

This time it’s Tony shaking his head. “Thanos is the one who gave it to Loki in the first place; he was behind the whole failed invasion. He’d already used it before all of that happened.”

That’s news to Rhodey. “How do you know?”

Tony grimaces, eyes far away. He looks like he’s lost in thought, or maybe memories, a look that was familiar to Rhodey in the days immediately after his resurrection but not so much lately. “I… _knew_ things when I was connected to the stones. Thoughts, knowledge, that was just _there_ , already in my head, I didn’t even have to go looking for it. I could tell it was new, wasn’t from me, but I didn’t know exactly where it was from, the stones themselves or Thanos.”

That doesn’t sound too reassuring, and the look on Tony’s face is putting Rhodey on edge. “What kind of knowledge are we talking about?”

Tony looks at him and seems to snap back into focus, shaking his head. “Not—whatever you’re thinking. Worrying about. I mean things like… the fact that the Time Stone was here on Earth. Other details to do with the stones’ history, at least the recent history. I could sort of… see Ultron, and Vision, from a different perspective than my own. It’s hard to explain. I could see where the stones had been in the last few years, at least some of them, and I saw Thanos giving the Mind Stone to Loki, telling him to go after the Earth to get the Tesseract back. It didn’t go back all that far, though, which makes me think maybe what I was seeing was from Thanos, not the stones themselves. They’re _ancient_ , as in beyond what we can even comprehend. I don’t think I could handle seeing all of their history at once.”

The thought of that is vast and uncomfortable, something Rhodey can’t really imagine. It brings up yet another anxious wave of thoughts about the thousand ways Tony’s resurrection could have gone horribly wrong. Thankfully, he’s distracted a moment later by his brain catching up to something else Tony just said.

“Wait, wait. You said Thanos gave the scepter to Loki and told him to come here? Are we talking mind control, like with Barton?” Loki’s a bastard, and certainly not to be trusted from the tales Thor’s told, but if he really wasn’t responsible for the invasion the way they’d blamed him… Well, maybe it doesn’t matter so much in the grand scheme of things, not after everything the Earth has been through. What would they even do with the information? Still, it seems like something he ought to know.

Tony shakes his head. “I don’t think it was full-on mind control the way it was with Barton. There was certainly some form of coercion—at the very least, Loki looked like shit when he first showed up here and some of the stuff I saw through the stones was… not good, to say the least. Thanos found him when he was alone and vulnerable and he wasn’t kind to him.”

The statement hits a little too close to home for Rhodey, and he wonders if Tony is also seeing some of the same parallels. “But it really doesn’t matter,” Tony says, echoing Rhodey’s earlier thought unconsciously. “I saw some of the things Thanos did before he got to Earth, once he had the gauntlet and most of the stones. Loki’s faked his death before, but I don’t think he faked that. He’s gone.”

Rhodey doesn’t exactly mourn the loss—he didn’t know Loki, never even came face to face with him, and despite the revelations of the last few minutes, he _did_ wreck half of Manhattan and toss Tony out a window. But there’s a heaviness to his thoughts now, and he knows this is something he’ll have to reconcile at some point. Yet another life taken by Thanos. His only consolation in the moment is Tony sitting next to him, alive and relatively well.

They sit for a long while in silence, each lost in their thoughts. It’s comfortable enough, but Rhodey worries about Tony. When he starts thinking about Thanos and his resurrection, sometimes it makes him melancholy and apathetic and it scares Rhodey, because he’s never sure what to do to pull him out of it. Ideally, Tony should be in therapy—they both should—but not only is it hard to make that a priority right now, god knows he had a hell of a time trying (and failing) to persuade Tony to see a therapist in the past. And right now, with Tony still as new and strange and sometimes vulnerable as he is, it would be hard to find someone to trust with that.

So Rhodey does what he can. Distraction has proven an effective method in the past. “I need a snack,” he announces, pushing himself to his feet. He leaves the braces on even though he’s not supposed to wear them for too long at a time if he’s not doing his exercises. Tony follows him into the kitchen after a moment, smiling when Rhodey digs through the cabinet for something salty and nutritionally deficient to share between them.

His tactic works; Tony regains his usual life quickly, eventually coaxing Rhodey back up to do the workout they’d been starting when Strange had shown up. Rhodey needs him to do it, because after Strange’s impromptu visit and the bombshells he’d dropped, if it were up to Rhodey, he’d probably just skip it. Helping each other goes both ways.

Tony’s back to being too quiet by the time they’re preparing for bed that night, though. He’s staring off into the distance too much, not smiling the way he should, not even moving as much as he usually does. It’s how Tony acts now when he’s thinking hard, and eventually, Rhodey decides enough is enough.

“What’s up?” he asks when Tony comes out of the bathroom in his sleep clothes, eyes looking glazed over once more.

“What?” The look on Tony’s face is enough to tell Rhodey that he’s done the right thing in addressing this instead of leaving Tony to his thoughts.

“You’ve been brooding all night. Since Strange came by, really. I know he dropped a hell of a lot in your lap, but this is somber even for you. Talk to me.”

For a minute, Rhodey thinks he’s going to refuse. And he certainly has that right, but Rhodey knows it’s not healthy to bottle things up. He hopes he didn’t come on too strong, drive Tony away. Thankfully, Tony takes a deep breath, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “Did I… do the right thing?” 

Rhodey waits, not bothering to ask for clarification. Sure enough, Tony elaborates, “What I told Strange, about the Time Stone. About using it. Using it to reverse all of this—everything Thanos did. Everyone he killed. Was I right?”

“Of course you were,” Rhodey says immediately. “You said it yourself, there’s way too much risk. It could bring another Thanos down on our heads. It could screw everything up beyond repair. It could enslave whoever did it to the stone and end up, I don’t know, destroying the universe or something.” Rhodey tilts his head, carefully considering Tony. “You were firm in that before, and you were absolutely right. Where’s this coming from?”

Tony crosses his arms, hunching down. “I just… what if I was wrong? I mean, I know it’s possible, likely even, that things would go catastrophically wrong. But… what if they didn’t? What if I’m wrong, and it could really save everyone Thanos killed?”

“That’s a pretty infinitesimally small chance, Tony,” Rhodey says carefully.

“It worked for me,” Tony says, and it’s quiet, unsure. 

Rhodey’s already shaking his head. “That was completely different. Thanos used all the stones, and he was just bringing back one person. What Strange was talking about, that’s millions of people, months worth of damage. It’s not the same. That’s not a risk anyone should be willing to take.”

A sigh. “Strange might have taken it, though, if I hadn’t interfered. I was the one who stopped him, and he listened to me. Am I becoming some kind of a dictator? Thinking that my opinions are automatically right because of what the stones did to me? Strange came to me because of my powers, not because of my—my wise judgment, or something. Why should I get to decide what happens to it?”

Rhodey reaches out, putting a hand on Tony’s arm, hating hearing him say these things. “Tony, that’s not what happened. You’re not a dictator. You’ve never acted like one before—okay, maybe you made some mistakes in the past, maybe you’ve been selfish and arrogant and naïve before—” Tony gives him a look and Rhodey smiles sheepishly— “but you’ve always taken other people’s input into account. And if you’re asking yourself these questions now, then you have the awareness not to fall into that kind of trap. That should be proof enough that you aren’t putting yourself on a pedestal.”

Tony sits back and is quiet for a moment, considering that. “It feels selfish,” he finally says, “to sit here and talk about it like I’m unaffected. The power of the stones brought me back. I got my miracle, so now I’m free to sit here and deny that chance to everyone else. What right do I have to condemn them all to death?”

There’s a heavy weight in Rhodey’s chest, sadness and pain all in one. While he stands by Tony’s insistence on not using the Time Stone and he understands all the reasons it would be a terrible idea, there’s a sort of truth to what Tony’s saying. Rhodey thinks he’s wrong, but at the same time, he absolutely understands where he’s coming from. 

And on top of it all is sharp guilt, because isn’t that exactly what Rhodey’s doing? He got his best friend back. He was willing to accept that use of the stones. If he’d somehow been given the option, back before Tony’s resurrection, to try to use the stones to bring him back or to leave him dead… knowing how it turned out, of course he’d agree to it, but even with no guarantees, he can’t say for sure that he wouldn’t have given in and done it. That he wouldn’t have been willing to risk everything for the chance to bring Tony back, to undo the injustice that was his premature death and to save himself from the imminent prospect of such a horrifyingly lonely life. 

And now that he got his miracle, as Tony called it, he’s sitting here and saying that no one else should get that chance. Is he being a dictator himself, trying to decide what’s best for everyone, as though his opinions are guaranteed to be righteous and correct?

While Rhodey’s battling the sudden tide of doubts, Tony speaks up again. “I’m compromised by what happened to me. Maybe I have new powers, but I’m not special. I don’t have any right to decide whether millions of people get another chance or not.”

That’s enough to dispel the fog of doubt and guilt, because it sounds dangerously close to Tony talking himself out of the good decision he made earlier, and that can’t happen. Rhodey knows very well that Tony can get into his own head and turn himself around so much that he ends up following a bad decision down a worse path. Suddenly, the answer to his own question seems clear to Rhodey.

He puts a hand on Tony’s knee, drawing Tony’s gaze to him. “Listen to me, Tony. You didn’t choose to be brought back. You didn’t ask for this, and I know you never would have. There were too many ways it could have gone wrong. You’ve said yourself how insanely lucky it is that it worked out the way it did, and you wouldn’t be stupid enough to test that luck a second time.”

He remembers the way Tony looked in the first days after his resurrection, how he was stuck with grief as his only emotion, worried that he’d never feel anything else again. In some of those moments, Rhodey had privately wondered whether Tony would have been better off not coming back at all. He was grateful for his return, of course, and willing to work as hard as he needed to in order to help Tony recover, but he also knew that Tony would never have wanted that for himself. It’s those memories that give strength and conviction to Rhodey’s words now.

“It’s tragic that so many people died. It’s horrible, and it’s unfair, and we’re always going to wish it hadn’t happened. But you were right about the stones being too dangerous to mess with. Don’t ever doubt that. And this? This isn’t you being selfish, keeping your powers while denying life to others. This is you being responsible enough to recognize that what happened to you shouldn’t happen again, because there are a million ways it can go wrong. This is you taking responsibility for that choice, because there are people out there who would want to make the wrong one, and you know why that can’t happen. It’s a hell of a burden to bear, and I’m sorry that it has to be on your shoulders. I’m sorry that I can’t do more for you. But you’re doing the right thing.”

Tony gives him a tired, borderline tearful smile, then closes his eyes, swaying forward. Rhodey catches him gently around the shoulders, running a hand once over his hair affectionately, then easing him back. It’s been an exhausting day, and these heavy conversations always seem to take a lot out of Tony. 

Rhodey goes about getting himself ready for bed, and by the time he comes back, Tony is already buried under the covers, hiding most of his glow in layers of blankets. Rhodey only gives him a fond smile, pulling himself into bed silently and settling down. He can only hope that the next few days are relatively uneventful, so they both have time to think things through and recover from this.

Rhodey’s just starting to drift off when Tony lets out a quiet breath beside him and shifts on the bed. “You do plenty for me, Rhodey,” he says suddenly. “You don’t ever need to apologize to me for not doing more. You—you keep me sane, and on track, and you have all the hope and the happiness where I don’t. I can’t imagine what that’s like, and I know I don’t always make it easy. Just… thank you. For everything.”

Rhodey smiles, twisting to put a hand over Tony’s. He doesn’t bother to open his eyes, just settles further into the pillow and squeezes Tony’s hand to let him know he heard him. He could make another impassioned speech about how much Tony helps him, or how proud he is of his recovery, but he doesn’t need to. He just whispers his response into the darkness. “Yeah, I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Rhodey says to Tony here is partially based off a quote from Star Trek TOS, The Ultimate Computer. It’s actually a pretty dumb episode imo (a lot of them are but I still love TOS), but there’s a part that I’ve always liked, where Kirk is worrying about his job being replaced by a computer. He tells McCoy he’s worried that he’s so jealous and proud that he’d stand in the way of innovation just because he’s afraid of becoming obsolete, and McCoy tells him, “Jim, if you have the awareness to ask yourself that question, you don’t need me to answer it for you.”


	27. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically filler, but I needed to fit in some necessary “what’s happening in the world” sort of stuff. Along with world-type stuff, there’s some more individual Rhodey and Tony stuff (some fluff, some angst, the usual). I’m very excited about the next chapter and hoping to write it soon.

Things settle. It’s slow, and it’s not always great, but it happens.

Nearly six months pass after Thanos’s death, and in that time, a lot changes. A lot settles. The first months, consumed with recovery and gathering the remains of civilization, pass by, their work completed. In their place comes the endless rebuilding, the inevitable heavy weight of loss, the prospect of finding a new normal after every inch of the planet was so thoroughly changed.

Winter comes to the northern hemisphere. In what some call a miracle, others luck, what comes is one of the mildest winters in decades. It starts late, giving those who were still displaced after the invasion time to find adequate shelter. When it does arrive, the snow is light, the wind practically nonexistent. The sun stays out.

There are always exceptions, of course. In the US, half of Wisconsin gets buried under five feet of snow in November, and they spend a struggling week scrambling to find the equipment and personnel to clear the roads and get everything running again. Michigan sees three days of freezing rain that take down power lines all over the state, something their drastically reduced resources aren’t prepared for.

Northern Scotland is lost to the weather for almost a week in early December. When they dig themselves out, entire towns have been wiped out, small places that had suffered more drastically from the population loss and physical destruction. The weather warms in the south as it cools in the north, and Australia sees a wildfire rage through hundreds of acres of land. With less than half of their usual resources and people to combat it, they’re forced to watch it burn through places that had just been rebuilding.

But news isn’t all bad. People band together to deal with weather the same way they dealt with the immediate aftermath of the invasion. Everything Thanos did is still coloring everyone’s lives, and anyone claiming that humans don’t instinctively help each other would have a hard time in the face of the generosity and cooperation that people are still showing in spades even months after the end of the invasion.

That’s not to say that there aren’t those taking advantage of every situation they can. As society recovers, so does crime and greed. There are people out there who will loot abandoned houses, steal from shelters, and attack people in the streets, but the damage they can do is outweighed by the kindness others are willing to show. Money is back to going around pretty much everywhere by five months in, capitalism making its comeback. There are companies cutting corners to put out “helpful” products, taking advantage of the desperation still present everywhere to price as high as they can. But they never get a foothold, because there are too many others out there still giving back. Stark Industries leads by example, and when faced with their superpowered CEO, savior of the world and still giving back to the public in every way he can, it’s hard for anyone else to manipulate and take advantage of others without their own shame bringing them down. Of course, the fact that it’s hard to compete with SI’s lower prices and larger impact helps significantly more than any moral arguments.

As December rolls in, the world adjusts around the holiday season. In the US, where Christmas was as much a corporate holiday as a religious celebration, it’s hard to picture things ever being the same as they once were. Still, people reinvent, they adapt. There aren’t a lot of holiday lights or trees going up where power grids are still recovering and thousands of people are still living in shelters or temporary homes, but people still find ways to give gifts, give thanks, show their joy. The religious hold services where and when they can, and see a tide of new people coming in, wanting to give their thanks for their continued life to anyone who might be listening. Communities that can’t afford the old extravagant parties and decorations hold gigantic potlucks, distributing food and blankets instead of less practical gifts, making sure that no one goes hungry or cold.

There are other unique problems that the invasion has brought up. Early in November, Stark Industries collaborates with governments all over the world—which are starting to get a real foothold again, recovering well and once again taking a larger role in the workings of many of the most populated areas—to launch a massive alien tech collection. They offer valuable incentives to anyone who brings in anything that was looted from the ships or the corpses of Thanos’s minions. By the time it gains any traction, there are plenty of black market sales going on—which is part of what prompted the program in the first place—but the market goes dry very fast when people realize they can get a hell of a lot more from the government or SI for their bits and pieces than they could get from anyone else. 

People question, of course; they worry. Any organization collecting alien tech like that makes people nervous. The distrust that many people used to have for government is lesser now that most governments were decimated by the invasion and are being rebuilt from the ground up, but it’s still there. And though people respect SI, their fear of anything alien can overcome that. No one would accuse Tony to his face of hoarding alien tech or doing anything unsavory with it—and indeed, those who ask him about the program don’t try to—but they’re less hesitant about questioning a company. To combat it, the governments and SI are as transparent as possible, releasing lists of items gathered and how they’re handled, transported, and either destroyed or locked down. 

There’s other alien tech out there, without a doubt. Organizations that had plans for it already are likely keeping what they have, unlike the random citizens who did most of the original collection and simply used what they picked up to trade for other things. Those organizations no doubt have stockpiles by the time the buyback program is launched. But their supply is cut off, and the program has the added benefit of public awareness. Anyone who wants to actually use any of the black market alien tech has to be careful, because every other person on the street is on the lookout for it.

The counts eventually come in. Every country, every city, every household is different in when and how they approach it, but eventually, the data all comes together. It’s broadcasted all over the world, and the world takes pause, not sure what to do with the information. The final counts: just over six hundred million dead or gone after the invasion. Just shy of ten percent of the population. Most of those were killed in the fighting, slaughtered by Thanos’s minions as the camps were emptied, or taken off planet, but there were plenty who died in the camps or in the weeks and months following the invasion, when shelter was scarce and resources practically nonexistent.

Considering what could have happened, some say, ten percent of the population isn’t that bad. Numbers like that are hard for the mind to comprehend, too large to really mean anything. But it isn’t difficult for people to find empathy, to see the smaller picture within the larger one. No one is unaffected. Even those few who were lucky enough to have kept their families together can’t look next door without seeing loss and devastation. No one quite knows what to do with the numbers, so they talk. They talk on the news, on the internet, in person, and as they’ve been doing all along, they continue to heal.

As grief passes in stages, so does recovery from the invasion. The relief of Thanos’s death and the end of the invasion fades, though a profound gratitude will always be left behind. As life finds its new normal, fear is always lapping at its heels, trying to drag it down. People are afraid of another Thanos, of retaliation for killing the Titan, of another attack on the Earth when it’s at its most vulnerable.

It seems, for a while, like there’s a new proposal or push for superhero teams or planetary defenders every week. But proposals are as far as anyone knows how to go. The world doesn’t know who to look to now that most of its former heroes are dead.

Tony Stark, of course, the savior of the planet, is always first on everyone’s mind. But even those who practically worship him recognize that he is one man. Without a system, or even others to join in a team, the conversations never go far. Tony is asked about it, of course, but he deflects the questions expertly at every instance, and no one ever seems to notice until he’s gone that he never gave them an answer.

Tony will always be the one who ended the invasion and saved them all, but he’s also back to being the face of tech innovation and of Stark Industries. The world gets used to his altered appearance—eventually, it just becomes a part of him, no longer something novel. He doesn’t talk much about his powers, though plenty of people ask, but he’s seen using them a few times. Iron Man makes more appearances than Tony’s new powers, helping with the continued reconstruction, occasionally coming in for a daring rescue or to help in a local disaster. 

James Rhodes is well known enough from his days as War Machine, and though he no longer dons the armor thanks to his injuries, he’s still somewhat of a celebrity at SI and around the world. They don’t tend to focus much on him, particularly when Tony is around—which he is perfectly fine with—but he does get attention, since he’s taken a high-up position at SI and everyone knows that he and Tony live together in Stark Tower.

For Rhodey, it’s practically normal. He might not be flying missions with Iron Man right now, but he’s always been at the edge of the spotlight, an occupational hazard when one’s best friend is Tony Stark. He doesn’t have Tony’s masterful skills with the press, but he knows his way around an interview and he’s fine with a little attention. He can use it to bring awareness to issues and pursue opportunities for SI. And sometimes, a camera in his face means one less on Tony.

Tony is doing well. He’s really getting back into being Iron Man, going out in the suit as much as he can. He’s spending a lot of his free time down in the lab again, tinkering with the suits and building new ones, though without some of the manic, anxious energy that he used to have. This seems to Rhodey to be purely about the joy of creation, even though Tony still says he can’t feel true joy or happiness.

Tony smiles regularly, not just the nice ones for the media—Rhodey doesn’t count those, he knows they’re not real—but genuine ones. It’s hard to say whether he smiles as much as he used to. In those last few miserable years before his death, he was so stressed and unhappy that he might very well smile more now than he did then. But it’s definitely muted now compared to his best times, the years before and even the first few after Afghanistan. He seems to be proud of his work with SI, but he doesn’t get excited about it the same way he would in the past. He clearly likes being in the suit, but he doesn’t quite pilot it with the same unrestrained freedom that he used to. 

They still have their talks regularly. It’s a little more difficult now to parse out what exactly Tony’s feeling and what he’s still lacking. He smiles, he feels surprise and a sort of nostalgia and what he describes as “familiarity” with the bots and Rhodey, but he still says that he doesn’t feel happy. Rhodey hasn’t had the courage to ask if what Tony’s looking for is unattainable, an idealistic notion of what he thinks happiness should be instead of what it actually is. Sometimes Rhodey can’t help but feel frustrated with Tony’s vague issues and his apparent unwillingness to really search for a solution. Other times, he’s ashamed of those thoughts, and reminds himself that he’s the one who keeps telling Tony not to push things, to let them come organically. Mostly, Rhodey just tries to be supportive, telling himself—rightfully—that Tony knows himself best, and just because he can’t describe what’s happening doesn’t mean he can’t handle it.

Rhodey knows very well he should be seeing a professional, should be encouraging Tony to see one too, but it’s hard for many reasons, for Tony and for himself. He trusts Tony, he knows him, and he knows that Tony trusts him too. If he were to suggest it, he wouldn’t want Tony to think he was trying to avoid listening to him or talking about his issues. On his own side, Rhodey himself isn’t sure he’d feel comfortable telling a stranger about his problems. 

There’s the added issue that no one but Rhodey, Tony, and Rhodey’s mom knows about Tony’s emotional problems. He’s significantly better now, enough that if news did get out, it might not be quite the blow that it once would have been. But that wouldn’t stop it from being a terrible personal invasion. A therapist, in all likelihood, would be a complete professional, not telling anyone else what they learned about Tony Stark. But Rhodey just doesn’t feel like they can take that chance with a stranger, and he thinks Tony would probably agree.

On the physical side, Rhodey was right about Tony’s marks fading. The internet has noticed too, and though there are plenty of theories out there, no one really has an answer. Tony isn’t forthcoming about it; he doesn’t talk much about his powers, about the Infinity Stones or what Thanos did to him, and no one is really brave enough to ask him. But around the six month mark, Rhodey compares pictures taken over every week since the invasion ended, and he can tell that the marks have stopped fading.

They seem to have found a permanence on Tony’s skin. Instead of something bright shining from the surface, now they look like starlight under his skin in the daytime. At night, they glow just faintly enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings instead of an entire room. His eyes don’t look alien, not that they ever really did to Rhodey. Instead, they shine like moonlight reflected off of still water. In his more poetic moments, Rhodey thinks of the light as the soft illumination of Tony’s soul, something he’s always bared to the world but which most hadn’t taken the time to see before. He knows Tony would tease him for the flowery language, so he keeps that to himself. 

He does ask Tony about it. He shows him the pictures, asks if Tony feels anything different in relation to the marks on his skin. Tony says that he’s never really felt them, they’re just there, but he thinks they respond to his powers and how they’re being used. Tony thinks that he might now be comfortable enough with his powers that everything inside him has settled, in a way.

At the very least, Tony does seem comfortable with his powers. They’re constantly growing; he works a little bit every day to get better precision and control. Since Strange’s visit and his first, instinctual barrier creation, he seems to have opened up a whole new area of abilities. He practices bringing up shields that seem to be practically impenetrable—Iron Man’s repulsors, electricity, fire, nothing makes a dent when he’s really concentrating. He begins branching out, learning to manipulate the shape and texture of objects. Rhodey watches it with a sort of proud fascination, absolutely sure in the knowledge that Tony would never test unpracticed abilities around Rhodey—or anyone else for that matter—and isn’t endangering anyone.

Strange keeps to his word and drops by a few times a month, mostly to giver reports on the Time Stone’s activity, but also to observe Tony’s powers and offer some of his own “advice.” Rhodey thinks he’s a pompous ass who likes to picture himself “mentoring” Tony even though Tony’s Infinity Stone-based powers surely far surpass Strange’s own magic, but Tony takes it in stride.

They do learn a little more about Strange, and Rhodey gains some more respect for him when he learns that he was a doctor, a man of science who initially shunned the idea of magic and who still likes to incorporate the sciences where he can. The three of them get into a few discussions—most of which turn heated, not necessarily angry or mean but just passionate and occasionally highly frustrated—about the intersection of magic and science and how scientific principles can—or cannot—be applied to Tony’s powers and the Stones.

It’s after the day that Strange tells them about some of his explorations of other dimensions and, along with it, other worlds, that Tony and Rhodey finally come to a discussion that Rhodey had known in the back of his mind was coming. Though he accepted Rhodey’s insistence that he was right about not using the Time Stone, Tony never truly let go of his fears that he could misuse the trust and power that he has over people. He also won’t ever drop the responsibility he puts on himself for everything Thanos destroyed and everything that was recovered.

Which is why Rhodey finds himself arguing with Tony one evening about the people who were taken off the planet in the invasion. Easily a third of the people that were passed through Thanos’s checkpoints, maybe even up to half of them, were carted off the planet by his soldiers to be sold as slaves. No doubt many of them are dead, but the majority are probably still out there, on other planets, likely living terrible lives. 

Rhodey’s heart aches for them, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Tony, naturally, adds that guilt and grief to his own without a second thought, and as Tony tends to do, he involves himself way too quickly and too intensely in ideas for saving them, and he won’t be dissuaded easily. When Rhodey tries to point out the obvious problems, like actually getting to space, Tony just says that he’s sure he can figure it out. And Rhodey doesn’t doubt that he can, but that isn’t the point. When he tries to question how Tony plans to track down and rescue millions of humans, he doesn’t get a real answer.

But when he can see that Tony’s getting the idea too deep into his head, when Tony’s actually starting to think he should do this, Rhodey knows he has to interfere. Maybe he comes on too strong, maybe he’s a little too insensitive or insistent or frustrated, but they end up truly yelling at each other for the first time since Tony’s death and resurrection. It’s far from their worst fight ever, and their friendship is too strong to be broken apart or even cracked by something like this, but it’s still unpleasant.

They both know that Rhodey’s trying to look out for Tony. Tony knows Rhodey’s being more rational than he is, and Rhodey knows that Tony lashes out when he feels like he’s losing an argument, even more so when he feels like it’s some kind of a personal failing. Still, he doesn’t expect the response when he tells Tony that there’s nothing they can realistically do about the people who were taken off the planet, that they’re going to have to accept that loss. Tony is quiet and angry and guilty, but when he accuses Rhodey of sounding like Rogers, trying to write off innocent people to make himself feel better, it stings.

Rhodey knows he didn’t really mean it, but he doesn’t have a response in the moment. He just leaves, angry and hurt and wanting to be alone. He has a few brief moments of guilt, knowing that Tony was lashing out because he didn’t know how to handle the knowledge that millions of people were out there suffering and he couldn’t—or shouldn’t—help them. But Rhodey has feelings too, and though he knows Tony didn’t really mean it and will probably apologize later, it still hurts to be compared to Rogers. It’s not just what Tony said, the reminder of Rogers’s callous disregard for the lives lost directly because of his actions, but the fact that Rogers is the one who killed Tony, the ultimate betrayal of a so-called friend. Tony wasn’t making that comparison, but Rhodey does, and it hurts.

But when Tony finds him later in a living room a few floors down, climbs onto the couch to curl up at the opposite end from where Rhodey’s sitting, and explains to his own knees, contrite and genuinely apologetic, that he should never have said that and that he’s never once thought Rhodey would really act like Rogers, Rhodey can’t stay angry at him. The way he stares ahead, refusing to look at Rhodey, might seem to some people like a matter of pride, that Tony can’t look someone in the eye and apologize, but Rhodey knows Tony better than that. He knows it’s fear, fear that he’s screwed something up beyond repair, that he’s ruined their friendship, that now Rhodey will abandon him. 

Which is out of proportion to the fight and it speaks a hell of a lot to Tony’s myriad of issues, but Rhodey melts in the face of it. He beckons where he knows Tony will see it and Tony immediately comes to him, leaning into him until he can muffle another quiet apology into Rhodey’s shoulder. And because Rhodey knows Tony so well, he doesn’t try to tell Tony that he accepts the apology or that he was never really that angry in the first place, because he won’t be believed. Instead, he just sighs, and squeezes Tony a little too tight, and asks him if he knows what a pain in the ass he is, and he feels Tony’s smile against his shoulder.

As the world settles, so do they.


	28. Family

It’s early January now. The coldest days are coming to them, but New York and the world have done a lot of healing in the past six months. Tony and Rhodey host a few more people than usual in the Tower, opening up space for anyone who doesn’t have decent enough housing to stay out of the cold and get some good meals, but for the most part, everyone is doing very well.

New Year’s was odd. With a lot of the day to day workings of life before the invasion back in place, New York City at the very least seemed like it could have celebrated practically the way it did before. As with every holiday that’s come so far since the end of the invasion, people came together with intensity, celebrating their life and all the things they’d never realized they should be grateful for. 

But New York City, as much as it’s physically recovered, isn’t the same, and neither was the celebration. People gathered in Times Square, they cheered and they counted down the new year and they kissed on the stroke of midnight, there were cameras there and reporters smiling at the positivity. But there was no confetti, no commercialization, no jumbotrons advertising the newest movies or products or whatever. It was a very raw, organic celebration. Some of the skyscrapers that used to line the streets are gone now, the rubble cleared away but the holes where they used to be still clear evidence of the destruction.

The area Rhodey and Tony visited on their day off months ago, which has been left as is and officially turned into a memorial for the invasion, had more visitors than ever on the new year. People celebrated their lives, but they also remembered what was lost. Though some are no doubt still stuck in their grief, as a whole, the night seemed to put a lot to rest. People made a commitment to move forward.

Stark Industries keeps them both busy enough, though they both have other responsibilities on top of it. Tony is in the lab as much as he’s in the suit, and he keeps up with working on honing his abilities. He’s also got some sort of mad science project going on with Strange, trying to find better ways to measure activity from the Time Stone without risking poking at it. 

Rhodey has his own projects in the lab, plus his physical therapy, which is coming along amazingly well. He can stand on his own now for a few seconds, even take a few very small, tentative steps without the support of his braces. Tony’s updated them several times, creating new programs that can adjust the level of support automatically, allowing him to keep them on most of the time now instead of having to use his chair.

He’s happy with his progress, he tries to keep any frustrations to a minimum, and he works hard without pushing himself too far. He’s far from completely recovered, but the progress he’s made, which he once thought would be impossible, is amazing. He’s gotten used to his wheelchair, and he doesn’t have any desire to forget the time he was in it, but the day he’s first able to stand on his own, he’s ecstatic. He sneaks away from Tony that afternoon so he can spend an hour lying on a couch downstairs, alternately trying to remember how to breathe like a person and sobbing into a pillow. So maybe he has a lot of pent-up emotions. When he does come back, Tony gives him a look that says he knows exactly what Rhodey was just doing, but isn’t going to push it.

It’s now a week and a half into January, a completely ordinary day, though lucky in that both Rhodey and Tony are in the Tower instead of out at meetings or, in Tony’s case, in the suit. They’re upstairs for lunch when a call comes up from security, which is odd. The Tower gets plenty of visitors requesting to see Tony, from media to people from the government to random citizens who’ve trekked across states to try to see their savior face to face. But usually, security does a marvelous job of politely but firmly turning away most of them. 

Not that Tony and Rhodey don’t want to see the public, or occasionally hear what even random people have to say to them, but they need their privacy. Having to turn away even the most well-intentioned people who try to ambush him in his home is something Tony’s dealt with his entire life. Many of the people who used to work that job for him for years and understood all the little intricacies of when it was and wasn’t appropriate to occasionally let someone through are gone now, so Rhodey assumes that’s what this is: a relatively new security person, possibly swayed by a pretty face or a sad story into calling up to ask if they could be sent up.

“Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes,” the man from downstairs says when they accept the call—despite the decimation of the military, most of the staff still insist on addressing Rhodey as Colonel— “there’s a, um… visitor here to see you?” The note of questioning in his voice is a little odd, though Rhodey chalks it up to him being unsure about bothering them.

“Who is it?” Tony asks before Rhodey can.

There’s a pause and then an awkward throat clearing. “He… didn’t give his name,” the guard says, and Rhodey and Tony exchange a look.

“Okay…” Rhodey says, trying not to sound rude, but honestly not sure what the problem is. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Um, I can’t, sir, I’m sorry. I sent him up.”

“Woah, wait, what?” A spike of alarm goes through Rhodey at that. What would have possessed security to send up someone who didn’t even give their name? It’s been months since he’s even thought of her, but Rhodey’s mind immediately goes to Maximoff, remembering the way she could turn people into puppets, how Tony looked haunted and jumped at shadows after whatever she did to him. Witnesses have confirmed that Thanos killed her, but what if there are others like her out there?

“Well, he was wearing a mask, but he’s worked with you before, uh…”

“What?” Rhodey’s already asking, but Tony steps back next to him and lets out a little gasp, turning to face where the elevator will let their guest off.

Rhodey honestly has no idea what’s going on. He wouldn’t; he didn’t work as closely with their guest as Tony did. When the elevator door opens and the kid Tony brought along in Germany steps out, dressed in the suit Tony gifted him sans mask, it still takes Rhodey half a second to place him. He didn’t really interact with the kid much, only saw him for the first time in Germany once the fighting started, and his memory of that fight is a little hazy anyway, after his injury.

But Tony was the one who went to recruit the kid in the first place, the one who researched him and spent hours studying his technique and built a fully functional suit for him before he ever even met him in person. And now it’s Tony who’s turning toward the kid, true astonishment on his face. “Peter!”

The kid looks sheepish as he takes a few more steps inside the suite. “Hey, Mr. Stark, um, Colonel Rhodes,” he nods to both of them. “I’m sorry for showing up without warning, you know, and I think I might have freaked out your security guy? But I thought if I showed up without my suit they wouldn’t let me in, even if I told them I knew you, you know, they wouldn’t believe me, I mean I’m sure a ton of people say that, but I was sort of trying to still keep the whole secret identity thing so I wouldn’t tell him my name, uh—”

“Peter,” Tony cuts off the kid’s rambling, not unkindly, and crosses half the space between them; Rhodey follows, his braces adjusting as he puts more power into his stride to keep it smooth and keep up with Tony.

Tony looks like he’s going to go right up to the kid, but then he stops, hesitates, just a few steps from him. His body language turns unsure, and this time it only takes Rhodey a heartbeat to catch up. This is the first time since Rhodey’s mom that Tony’s met someone else who knew him personally—maybe Tony and Peter didn’t exactly get a chance to become close before Tony died, but they were certainly close enough for Tony to obviously care what this kid thinks of him. Rhodey knows very well that, as much as she tried to hide it from him, Tony could tell that Rhodey’s mother was wary of him, of the changes to him. And now Tony’s afraid that Peter will look at him the same way, like he’s a stranger wearing a familiar face.

Peter’s eyes flick between them when they both come to a stop. Rhodey considers trying to give him a significant look behind Tony’s back, but he doesn’t need to—evidently the kid can’t help himself, eager and earnest and absolutely genuine as he closes the distance and throws his arms around Tony.

Tony barely hesitates for a second before he’s returning the hug, tension melting out of his body when he returns the embrace. Rhodey breathes an internal sigh of relief. Not just at the fact that this young kid, bright and innocent and absolutely deserving of the rest of his life, survived the invasion, but because this is exactly what Tony needs. Someone other than Rhodey who sees immediately that he’s the same person, who isn’t afraid of him, who will treat him the same as before.

The hug lingers, but eventually they break apart, Tony holding onto Peter’s shoulders and holding him at arm’s length, looking him over. “You’re okay?” he asks, and Rhodey wants to cheer at the real care and concern in his voice. One more mark in his book of positive emotional progress.

Peter nods. “Yeah, we just got back to the city, me and my aunt,” which answers Rhodey’s question about why he’s here now. “We were here during the invasion, but then we went out to stay with one of her friends after, to help them rebuild their neighborhood and stuff. They put up a new apartment building around where our old one was and we moved back in last week.”

Peter mirror’s Tony’s movements, looking him up and down as well. “Are _you_ okay? I mean, you’re not—well—I mean you look fine, but you know, I just—” he’s stumbling over his words, which Rhodey thinks is almost endearing, but then his face screws up and he looks like he might cry suddenly, and Rhodey doesn’t know what to do. 

He’s expecting the kid to have a breakdown in front of them, talk about the trauma that he must have gone through in the invasion. And Rhodey won’t blame him, but he also doesn’t really want that to be put on Tony, who has enough emotional baggage to deal with between him and Rhodey. Peter surprises both of them, though, when he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’m sorry.”

Rhodey actually steps forward to put a hand on Peter’s shoulder beside Tony’s, honestly confused and just a bit heartbroken over the despondent look on his face. The kid’s kicked puppy look could make anyone melt.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Tony asks, the same confusion in his voice as Rhodey feels.

“I—I didn’t do enough, in Germany, you brought me to web them up and I got too close, just like you said I shouldn’t, then I got hurt and you sent me home, I should have stayed, I could have helped you, I could have done something! But you made me leave, I left you, and then you got hurt, both of you,” he looks at Rhodey and then back to Tony, “and you—you _died_ , because you went out there alone, I could have helped, I _should_ have helped. And then after you died, when the aliens showed up… everyone went out to fight, that Vision guy and all these other people and I didn’t, I should have fought back, but I didn’t, I hid from them, I’m so sorry.”

Despite hesitating and tripping over his words, there’s an intensity and a maturity in Peter’s face, in what he says, that Rhodey knows is part of why Tony was willing to recruit someone so young in the first place. The invasion has surely aged him, like it has for all of them, but those traits were there before, no doubt. It wasn’t just that Tony needed his skills or that the kid was going to be putting himself in danger with or without Tony’s intervention. Rhodey sees now in Peter what he knows Tony saw back before Germany: the future of the Avengers, of superheroes in general. A truly kind, compassionate person who will work to protect people for all the right reasons and none of the wrong ones.

Tony doesn’t say anything immediately, just pulls Peter into another hug. This one is short, but Rhodey hears Peter mumble another apology. Tony shakes his head as he pulls away this time. “Come sit down with us, okay?” Tony gestures to one of the long couches, steering Peter toward it with a hand on his shoulder and with Rhodey trailing behind them, eyeing it and smiling to himself. Peter’s the first person besides Rhodey that Tony has felt comfortable touching for more than a moment, and it’s yet another victory.

When they’ve all settled onto the couch, Rhodey reaching down to cut power to his braces for the moment and Peter nervously picking at his fingers, Tony takes a deep breath. 

“Peter, listen. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Everything you just said—none of that was your fault, your responsibility, or anything you did wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry, for involving you in the first place. Germany—that never should have happened. You shouldn’t have been there to get hurt in the first place. I know,” he holds up a hand, forestalling Peter when he opens his mouth, “you wanted to come, you made the decision and you fought. But I should have known there was no way to guarantee you stayed out of it. I should have known you’d end up in the fight, and I never should have put you in that position in the first place. I knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to me and I asked you to come anyway—that’s on me.”

Peter’s shaking his head, jumping in the moment Tony pauses for breath. “But Mr. Stark, you told me we were just there to talk to them, and to catch them if they wouldn’t listen to you. I know you weren’t expecting a fight, you even told me there shouldn’t be one, but then they fought anyway and they were hitting way harder than you said, I know you didn’t think that would happen.”

“Well, I should have,” Tony says. That’s familiar to Rhodey; Tony carries guilt and responsibility like no one else and he has a hard time letting it go. “I should have known, from how they’d acted before, from the… people who were involved, that it was going to turn into a fight. And no matter what ended up happening, you shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’re right, I didn’t expect it to escalate the way it did, but that’s on me for not predicting it, and on them for doing it in the first place, okay? Not you.”

Peter nods, reluctantly, but before he can try to argue the point again, Tony continues. “And Siberia? Peter, I never would have wanted you to be there, you or anyone else. I’d never have been okay with that. That wasn’t just a fight, that wasn’t like Germany. I _died_ , and that alone should tell you how dangerous it was. If you’d been there with me, you couldn’t have stopped them. You couldn’t have saved me, and if you’d died too? That would have been my fault, and I never would have forgiven myself for that.”

There’s a quiet intensity to Tony’s voice, the kind that draws anyone in, and sure enough, Peter seems absolutely captivated. “What would I have told your aunt if you’d been killed there? I couldn’t live with that. No one else could either. And Peter, best case scenario, even if you made it out, I still wouldn’t have. You think I would have wanted you to see that?”

Tony leaves it at that, Peter imagining watching him die, and that’s enough, but Rhodey knows how much more is in Tony’s mind. The awful truth of what happened in Siberia, what Tony saw. He never would have wanted Peter to see that video, or to see Tony like that in its aftermath, lost in his grief. Peter nods again, the reluctance gone this time, hopefully accepting what Tony’s telling him.

“As for the invasion,” Tony says firmly, “Thanos would have killed you. If you’d fought, you would have died, just like everyone else who did. I’m not faulting the people who did fight, that’s what they wanted to do, but they went into that knowing they were probably going to die. You’re too young for that.” When Peter frowns, an obstinate look appearing on his face, Tony adds, “not too young to make your own decisions, that’s not what I’m saying. But you’re too young to throw your life away in a hopeless fight.”

Peter nods again, but there’s still guilt etched on his face, so Rhodey speaks up. “Trust me, kid, from someone who’s experienced with fighting, and who was there when the invasion started? They knew they weren’t winning it. Vision knew he was going to his death when he fought Thanos. So did most of the soldiers out there. They went because it was their duty. And they weren’t wrong for that, but you weren’t wrong for staying out of it, either. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you wouldn’t have made a difference. You’d have just ended up dead, and the world would have been the same, and then when the invasion ended, you wouldn’t be here.”

He’s not necessarily trying to scare Peter, but maybe that’s what’s required. He doesn’t want to see him blaming himself, thinking he, a teenager, should have sacrificed his life in the initial invasion. Maybe a part of it is his selfish desire to have this kid stick around because of how good he obviously is for Tony, but most of it is just his instinctual desire to see this young kid, full of potential, not weighed down by life or death decisions and the idea that he should be dead.

Peter looks like he doesn’t quite know what to say, and Rhodey figures maybe it’s time to change the subject. “Is everyone around you okay? You mentioned your aunt.”

“Yeah,” Peter’s voice goes quiet. “We’re in a new place now, it’s pretty nice, you know, considering they built it really fast after the invasion. Our old place was pretty much destroyed.” He grimaces, and Rhodey can see the haunted look in his eyes, something terrible that no one so young should have to bear. “Most of the people we knew, our neighbors and—and the kids at my school, they didn’t make it.” 

Rhodey closes his eyes for a moment and he hears Tony take a deep breath next to him. Peter’s too young, too innocent to know the pain they do, the terrible guilt and horror of knowing almost everyone you once knew is dead and you have to go on without them, rebuild your life.

“Where we lived, it got hit pretty bad in the first few days. There was a ton of damage. We went back, when the invasion ended, but… they were pulling bodies out of what was left of the buildings. There were dead people in the streets, just laying there, and May didn’t—didn’t want to deal with that. She didn’t want me to see it.”

Rhodey’s thought of it before, when he saw kids out on the streets since the invasion ended, and back in the camp during it. His thoughts are the same now. He can’t imagine being responsible for a kid through the invasion. And even when it ended, sights like that… the unavoidable death counts, scenes of destruction, the hardships of rebuilding. There would be no way to protect a kid from that.

“It wasn’t just the fighting,” Peter continues. “Where I lived, where most of the kids from my school lived nearby… most of them ended up in the same few camps, and they—” Peter’s breath hitches— “they got emptied early. They’re all gone.”

Tony reaches forward again to grasp Peter’s shoulder. There’s a moment of silent solidarity between all three of them, before Tony asks, “But you weren’t there?”

Peter shakes his head, taking a moment to swipe at his eyes. “I didn’t—um. May didn’t know about Spiderman. I never told her. I didn’t want to worry her, even when I went to Germany, you know, she didn’t know. I was trying to figure out a way to tell her. She’s always worried about me, and if she found out what I was doing…”

Peter sniffs, giving them a teary smile. “But as soon as the first portal appeared, that big one, I told her about it. When I saw it, I thought… I thought I was going to go fight. And I thought she should know. But as soon as I told her, she freaked out. She was so scared, for me, and for both of us, I think. The aliens started attacking and she made me promise not to go out there and try to fight them. And she was so scared… I couldn’t leave her, you know?”

Rhodey and Tony both nod. “So what did you do?”

“I promised her I wouldn’t fight, and we left. We wanted to get out, find somewhere safe, out of the city at least. A ton of people were trying to leave, and the roads were all being shut down by the military, if they weren’t already totally blocked by traffic, it was crazy. So we just packed a couple bags and I put on the suit, I was planning to just carry her across the city, get out as fast as possible. But then Karen told me about this safehouse, just outside the city. She said you owned it, that it was, like, crazy well protected and we’d be safe there, so we headed for it.”

Tony looks to Rhodey for a second, confusion on his face, but at Rhodey’s own shrug, he asks, “Who’s Karen?”

“Oh,” Peter looks at them, wide-eyed. “My, um… suit lady? The one in the Spiderman suit? She—she activated, I guess, when the portal opened, she said something about danger and emergency protocols and she opened up all these new protocols on my suit. Which, by the way, there’s so much stuff in there, Mr. Stark, thank you, I didn’t even know about it and Karen’s been walking me through it but I haven’t even gotten to half of it—” he has to pause to draw breath, now nearly giddy in his excitement, but then he smiles sheepishly and sits back a little. “Anyway, she didn’t have a name, so I called her Karen.”

Something in Rhodey’s heart simultaneously aches and swells with affection. Remembering JARVIS and FRIDAY, Tony’s children who sacrificed themselves for him, will always be painful. But knowing Tony coded another AI specifically for a kid he saw potential in, and that he left her a blank slate for Peter to work with, even up to naming her, that’s sweet. In a way, another one of Tony’s AI kids is living on, even if she was always meant for someone else.

Rhodey isn’t surprised, either, that Tony would have put an AI in Peter’s suit, or a ton of features and extra bits and pieces that he might have initially withheld, hidden away, but which would activate if there was an emergency. Rhodey knew about some of the safehouses Tony kept for himself, friends, and family, too, an idea he’d supposedly come up with after the Ultron disaster, something about Clint and a farm. If he hadn’t been stuck in a wheelchair with his best friend dead and aliens descending on them faster than they could hope to fight, he might have made his way to one of them, himself.

“So you stayed in one of the safehouses?” Rhodey asks, but Peter shakes his head.

“Karen directed us, and we tried to get there, but there was a blockade on the route and when we tried to go around it, we ended up stuck, with aliens in every direction. We had to sneak into another building so I could change out of the suit, stick it in my bag and hope no one searched it. May wanted me to leave it, but I didn’t want anyone getting hold of it…”

He looks to Tony, who just pats his shoulder in encouragement. “No one would have blamed you if you had. It was for your safety. But it sounds like it’s good you held onto it.”

“Yeah. We just sort of blended in with a crowd, and we all got moved into one of the camps. But we were halfway across the city by then, far from where we lived, and we mostly got left alone. It was this big gymnasium thing, they had showers and stuff, it wasn’t too bad. I mean, I heard that some other people… they were outside, or crammed in way too crowded. We saw some of the bodies that were left behind when we tried to go back home after it was all over.”

Yet more incredible luck. Rhodey supposes that everyone left alive now had some kind of good luck in the invasion—that’s why they’re alive. Even though it’s awful that Peter came back with his aunt and had to see some of what was left behind by the invasion, it sounds like he was in one of the better camps.

Rhodey leans forward. “You did good, really good,” he says, and the look on Peter’s face is suddenly so young and vulnerable that Rhodey’s chest tightens. “It was smart as hell to get out of there, to try to make it to the safehouse.”

Peter looks down for a moment, wringing his hands. “I felt… worthless, a little bit, for just running and hiding. All the military was out fighting, and there were superheroes and stuff out fighting, and even in our camp, there were a few people who tried to attack the aliens, and they got killed. There were only a few guards on us, but I sat there for a whole month, with the suit right in my bag. I could have put it on, fought the guards, I could have protected the people in our camp.”

“You’d have just been killed by other guards when they found out,” Tony says, and Peter nods.

“I know, and May made me promise, and I didn’t want to put her in danger, her or anyone else, you know? But I—I was relieved, too, because _I_ was scared. I was scared of the aliens, and Thanos, they were killing everyone, and I didn’t want to die. I was scared of them and I was actually happy that May made me promise not to fight, because then I had an excuse to stay safe.”

“That’s good,” Rhodey says before Tony can. “Fear keeps you alive.”

“I felt like a coward,” Peter confesses.

Rhodey shakes his head. “You’re not a coward, Peter. Your fear was justified. You were outnumbered and outgunned, and you were right to keep yourself and your aunt safe. You were also right to be worried about endangering other people. I was in one of those camps, and you know what happened on the first day? A guy right near us tried to shoot one of the guards, and the bullet deflected off his armor and hit someone else. He got an innocent person killed, and all he accomplished was getting himself disintegrated, pissing off an alien, and making everyone around him panic even more. People got trampled that day, in part because of him.”

Rhodey has to pause for a moment, overcome by the memories of that day. He’s told Tony most of what happened to him in the camp, but it’s been a long time now since he’s talked about it. And it’s different, somehow, to be talking about it with someone else who was there that day, who experienced what it was like in the camps. Tony has enough horrifying memories to be dealing with, but this is one experience he doesn’t share with Rhodey. Rhodey takes a deep breath. “You absolutely did the right thing; you kept yourself alive, you kept your head down and stayed out of trouble. Sometimes that’s the best thing to do. It doesn’t make you a coward.”

Peter finally looks up at both of them. “But you guys aren’t afraid of anything. You go out and fight and you’re not afraid.”

Rhodey’s gotten letters from kids, he’s been told he’s a role model and an inspiration before. But in the face of this kid, on the verge of becoming an adult, with superpowers to boot and honestly looking up to Tony and Rhodey, there’s a sense of immediate responsibility for him that leaves Rhodey at a bit of a loss. 

He and Tony are both already shaking their heads, though, in response to Peter’s statement. “When I fell in the suit in Germany I was afraid,” Rhodey says to Peter’s wide eyes. “I thought I was going to die, and I was terrified. When Thanos came, I was plenty scared, too. I ended up in a camp just like you, and I didn’t fight then. I kept my head down just like you, I survived, and I was afraid the whole time.”

“I’ve been afraid of all kinds of things, even when I fight,” Tony says. “After the first New York invasion, after Loki, I had panic attacks, Peter. I had nightmares for years. I was always afraid they were coming back. Up until I died. And it turns out I was right.” Peter looks shocked at that.

“I was afraid in Siberia,” Tony adds quietly, “when I was laying there, freezing and injured, and I realized I was going to die. When I knew without a doubt that help wasn’t coming in time, and I was stuck in a dead suit, I was scared as hell. I didn’t want to die. No one does, and that doesn’t make you a coward. Rhodey was right; being afraid made you smart. Fear of death is what keeps us alive.”

Peter nods, eyes on the floor once again, and Rhodey thinks they’ve had enough intensely emotional conversations for now. “Are you staying here?” he asks, pulling both Peter and Tony out of whatever deep thoughts they’re lost in.

“Uh, yeah, May knows I was headed here, I told her I might be gone until tomorrow. I’ll text her, let her know I can stay, I mean, however long you want me to—?”

“Stay the night,” Tony says with a smile, standing up, and Peter and Rhodey follow him. They stretch and head into the kitchen, Tony asking Peter if he’s eaten.

They snack, then sit down to talk some more. Tony interrogates Peter about where they’re staying now, whether it’s safe, what’s happening around him, and how he’s been using the suit. Within minutes, he’s offering for Peter and May to move into the Tower, but Peter declines, polite and—maybe not so surprisingly—mature. “We’ve been helping out a lot in the neighborhood where we moved back, and I mean, they’re kind of depending on us. Plus May is making new friends there, and so am I, and there’s this family in the apartment below us with five kids who lost their dad, so I go and watch the kids a lot.”

Rhodey smiles and sees Tony do the same, feeling a swell of pride for this kid even though he barely knows him. He really is incredible. Tony tells him he understands, but that they’re welcome to visit any time, even bring those kids by. He tells Peter to come by the lab, which sparks a trip down to one of them that lasts hours, until Rhodey practically has to drag the two away from modifying Peter’s suit so they can all eat dinner.

There’s an uncomfortable moment after dinner when Peter finally brings up Tony’s appearance and his powers. Tony hesitates, and Rhodey watches him carefully, not sure what exactly he might want to tell to Peter. Peter’s already backtracking, trying to apologize for bringing it up, but Tony shakes his head and sits down with him again.

To Rhodey’s slight surprise, Tony tells him nearly everything. He doesn’t talk about the worst parts of his recovery, but he confesses his emotional state when he was resurrected, and where his powers came from. He talks about the emotions he’s gotten back and the ones he’s still hoping will come. He looks to Rhodey for permission before telling Peter about his unexpected healing abilities and the fact that Rhodey’s recovery is because of him.

True to the good nature that Rhodey’s already seen in him, Peter takes it all in stride. He doesn’t look disgusted or worried or afraid when Tony tells him about his problems, he just nods along, asks the right questions, and listens. Rhodey watches him like a hawk, a habit he can’t shake even with this amazing kid—Rhodey’s desire to protect Tony from any hurt, physical or emotional, is stronger than his immediate fondness for Peter—but there’s never cause for concern.

Rhodey does feel a slight pang at one point, watching how smoothly Peter takes this information, how comfortable he and Tony are around each other. He wishes his mother could have had the same reaction, for the sake of himself and Tony. But he has to accept that she and Peter are two different people, in different situations, who’ve known Tony differently and have different relationships with him. Tony is no doubt Peter’s first priority in this group, whereas Rhodey was his mother’s primary concern. And Tony is at a different point in his own recovery now, too. It’s easier to hear about the problems he’s now solved than to be faced with them directly. When they’d visited his mom, Tony still hadn’t even smiled since his death.

Peter watches Tony help Rhodey through his evening exercises. The scrutiny doesn’t really bother Rhodey, though the way Peter bounds around the two of them, asking questions about the equipment and the routine and how the braces work, borders on distracting. Thankfully, Tony’s still skilled at keeping up tech conversations while he works, and he and Peter launch into a discussion of the systems of the braces that lasts for most of the set.

They sit down to watch a movie at the end of the night, which ends up turning into a marathon. In the middle of the third one in the set, Rhodey gets up to wash out the empty popcorn bowl and sees that Peter and Tony have fallen asleep on the couch. Tony’s leaned back, head on the back of the couch, glowing just enough to combat the light from the screen. Peter’s just barely leaning into Tony’s side, legs curled up on the couch next to him and Tony’s arm over his shoulders.

Rhodey smiles fondly at the two of them, cleaning up the rest of the food and dishes that are scattered on the floor and table before coming back. When he sits down, slips the braces off his legs, and scoots himself over into his place on Tony’s other side, Tony sighs in his sleep and shifts, leaning over into Rhodey’s side while keeping his grip on the sleeping Peter. Rhodey props a pillow behind his back, puts his own arm over Tony’s shoulders, and leans back to sleep, looking down at the two of them. 

They’re an odd bunch. The former War Machine, just learning to walk again, Iron Man as a glowing reincarnation of himself, and a kid wise beyond his years who can probably bench press a city bus, crammed into a gangly teenager’s body. Tomorrow, Peter will go back to his home, though Rhodey certainly hopes he visits as often as Tony clearly wants him to. All of their responsibilities and problems will return in the morning, but for right now, they make a strangely content little group. No matter their issues, Rhodey thinks, this could really be what family feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I snuck in another Star Trek quote, this time from one of the new movies. Hehe.


End file.
